Choke On Self
by sylv-vies
Summary: Bella's an amnesiac with people problems, back from Phoenix after a five year vacation. Edward's her ex best friend, and shocked to see her back in town. She sucks at coping, and he's hot. "Whatever you bring to the table, whatever you got, I can meet.”
1. Chapter 1

yeah, whatever. new story. Bella's out of character because i don't feel like working too hard. or, i think she's out of character. i can never tell. don't really know where i'm going with this, but let's just hope it's somewhere.

oh, and sorry if i offend any of the American Idol watchers out there. honestly, i just hate that show. deal with it.

on with the show:

* * *

Changing schools was shitty. Changing schools when you were me was even shittier.

The sea of faces stared as I was dragged down the hall. Whoever the fuck this girl thought she was, she better let go of my hand. I couldn't feel my fingers.

The girl – Jessica I think – turned toward me as she walked. "Okay, so next is lunch. You'll love that. I can't wait for you to meet my friends. They'll love you, and I know you'll like them. They're the best people in this school, and oh my God, Tyler hosts the best parties ever. I remember once last year I went with Lauren and these fabulous college guys showed up . . . ."

Right then. Just Great. Time to meet frizz-head's posse.

I wasn't even quite sure how I'd met this Jessica. I was in Spanish, the class had spent the entire period embedding my face into their brains, and then the bell had rung and all of a sudden I was face to face with some sort of 80s-disco-Abercrombie nightmare.

And then she opened her mouth.

All I caught was her name and that she was on the prom committee.

"So Izzy," she said, and I tuned back into her. "Did you catch American Idol last night? God, it was so fantastic. I hate when the seasons end and I have to wait for the next one. One day, I swear I'll try out. I really love that girl, uh, wait, what's her name?"

She looked to me hopefully.

I shrugged.

"Well, whatever. You know who I'm talking about. She's so cute and she can sing, like, so well – and Ryan Seacrest is so hot."

I blinked. "Uh, yeah." Uh, no. And this girl needed to learn how to hold a conversation.

I zoned out again as she dragged me into the cafeteria and thought about what _I'd_ done last night.

We entered the lunch line and Frizz-head released my hand. I shook it out, rubbing my wrist tenderly.

I let my eyes wander over the lunch room. It was a lot smaller then my old one, but that was understandable. Aside from the size, it looked just like every other cafeteria. Linoleum floors, peppy posters encouraging school teams, your standard round tables. The usual crap.

And that did not exclude cliques. I took a moment to glance over the table groupings.

Yes, the usual. A few nerds to my left, a couple dudes with skate boards in the back, and a highly exclusive table right in the center where the crème de la crème made themselves at home.

Fuck, I hated high school.

We moved down the lunch line and I grabbed a hotdog, a bag of chips and Coke. We paid, and then Frizz-head waved me along past the other tables.

People stared.

Frizz led me to the center table, and sat down.

I remained standing.

A hush fell on the lunch room, like this was some showdown.

Whatever.

I took a close look at each of the center table dwellers.

They were all fairly attractive and wearing bright colors. The pretty blond girl was looking me up and down and wrinkling her nose. Couldn't really blame her. I looked like I just spent a night out on the streets - which, well, I kinda had – and she looked like a, a pristine slut really. Faded jean mini skirt and some too tight, too expensive polo.

There weren't any seats left.

I quirked an eyebrow at Blond-slut and turned around to grab one from the vacant table to the right. Somebody started whispering. The chair screeched as I dragged it across the floor. I slumped down into it and rested my chin in my hand.

"So, what's up with you guys?" I broke the silence.

I watched Blondie's reaction.

Her eyes widened, and she looked me up and down again. I didn't get this part of being a girl.

Frizz-head giggled nervously.

"Izzy here is chief Swan's daughter –"

"Bella," I corrected without breaking eye contact with Blondie.

Blondie wrinkled her nose again. "But that isn't short for Isabella." Her voice was nasally, and she drummed her pink nails against the table.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked.

Blondie looked to one of the boys, rolling her eyes toward me.

"Fine then." I extended my hand across the table and smiled widely. Grin, bear it, and then . . . something.

"My name's Belladonna, what's yours?"

Bitchy-blond looked down at my hand, hesitating.

"Look, I just changed my name for you. You want me to go wash my hands too?"

Blondie's mouth was hanging open like a fish, but she took my hand. "Lauren," she said.

I smiled sweetly. "Bella. Cut the Isabella shit."

I settled back into my chair and grabbed my chips, popping the bag open. I threw a couple in my mouth and tried to forget how bad they actually tasted.

"So, uh, Bella," said a blond boy sitting next to Frizz-head. His hair was done in rows of neat little spikes, gelled to perfection, and he was wearing a purple shirt.

He was gay, I was sure of it.

"I, uh, like your rings." I glanced down at my hands and the pieces of jewelry on each one. For shit he did.

"Oh, that's nice. Thanks."

"So, um, my name's Mike and this is Tyler." Gay-guy continued, pointing to a really tan boy.

"I heard Tyler throws killer parties or something." I said.

"Oh yeah. He totally does. Right guys?" Frizz perked up and launched into the Tyler-party-stories-achieve.

The table gradually fell into their own rhythm, forgetting I was there, and the rest of the lunch room resumed its chatter. Well, eventually. Lauren did watch me eat though, eyeing my hotdog and soda while she took dainty bites of her salad and whispered to Frizz.

I decided, half way through lunch that I needed to get out of there.

I stood up and dumped my tray, and then wandered the halls until I found a bathroom.

It was empty.

I went to the sink and splashed water on my face, examining my reflection.

I looked like shit. But that was my fault. I hadn't gone home last night, just cruised around town in my truck while snacking on cold fries, courtesy of McDonalds. I hadn't remembered anything, not even after passing my old elementary school. No flashes of any memories.

I sighed, and wiped a little of the leftover black make-up out from under my eyes.

I needed to sleep.

I blinked.

My lids felt heavy, like cement was being injected into the skin there.

I needed a smoke.

I reached for my messenger bag and took out the pack of Marble Lights and lighter I kept there. I lit up, and took a deep drag.

Ah.

God.

That felt good.

I slumped against the wall and slid to the floor, relaxing into the tile. Smoke curled in wispy gray swirls in front of me. I took another inhale, feeling the smoke in my throat, in my mouth, and then blowing out.

I had flown in two days ago. Charlie was fine. The house was fine. The school was fine.

I was not fine.

And that was all I needed to say.

I spaced out.

The door opened.

I didn't move. Teachers didn't come into bathrooms, not if they didn't have to.

I needed a new cigarette.

"Bella Swan,"

My blood froze, and my head snapped toward the voice.

He was leaning against the door, hands in pockets, and just about the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Red-brown curls fell into his eyes, a faint shadow fanning across his cheeks from where he had yet to shave. He was tall, lanky, but not skinny.

Hot.

Familiar.

He smiled. "Got a smoke?"

I reached for my pack and he walked over, sitting down next to me.

I could feel the heat from his body.

I handed him the cigarette wordlessly, and he pulled some matches from his pocket.

"So," he inhaled. On the exhale: "Welcome to Forks."

"Thanks. Welcome to the Girl's Bathroom."

We sat in silence for a while.

The bell rang.

I wondered what his name was.

"Got a name?"

He shrugged.

"Really."

He turned and the corner of his lip lifted. "Edward,"

I nodded, rolling it around in my head. It was old fashioned but . . . well, now that he had said it I couldn't really picture him with any other name. Chris, Brad, Ethan . . . boring.

It got quiet again.

Water from the sink dripped once, twice down the drain.

He stubbed out his cigarette.

I closed my eyes.

"When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?" He asked suddenly.

My eyes snapped open.

"Uh, I don't know." True.

His eyes caught me. I didn't notice before; they were green, deep forest green. Beautiful. Burning. "You have to. Everyone remembers that."

My heart tugged. I didn't.

I tore my gaze from his.

"No, sorry, I don't remember."

I thought, after a moment where he didn't talk, that we had gone back to silence.

"I wanted to be a fire fighter."

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. "What do you want to be now?"

"Don't know. Maybe I just won't get a job. Spend my life begging for change." He chuckled darkly. "Certainly would be easier than this. What we're gonna have to do."

He was serious.

He stared at the ceiling.

He scared me.

I hadn't been scared in . . . . forever.

"Don't," I said. "Don't do that. You don't want to have to beg."

He didn't look at me.

"Please, promise me you won't. It's not as easy as it looks, so just please, don't."

Tears clouded my eyes, and it occurred to me that I didn't even know him.

"Just, promise me."

He looked at me, turning his whole body.

He stared at me, green eyes blazing hard.

"Why do you care?" he whispered. "I'm just a stranger."

Tears spilled.

My hands shook.

He got up and headed to the door, but stopped with his hand on the knob.

"Bella. Meet me at the old playground tonight."

The door closed behind him.

Amnesia sucked ass.


	2. Chapter 2

Much love to my one reviewer. You didn't exactly inspire my world, but I appreciate the attention. X) Made a little edit with the cigarette thing last chapter. Meant to be Marlboro Lights, not MARBLE Lights. I tweaked the summary to this a little too, just to give a little more information and I changed the rating. This is a pretty dark antsy story so I think it's fair that this is rated M.

I realize I forgot the disclaimer last chapter. Sorry. My bad. Here you go: **don't own. **Done. XD

READ:

* * *

Gym passed like I expected it to.

Frizz chattered away about her cousin Becca in California who almost got raped and that new trailer for some romantic comedy, Lauren glared, and I missed the basket.

Normal, typical, blah blah blah.

No one noticed the redness in my eyes.

I breathed a sigh of relief when Coach Clap blew the whistle signifying our dismissal. I thought these miniature little basketball games of ours would never end.

Frizz pulled me into the locker room by my forearm and I reached for my lock, spinning out the combination. I pulled my gym shirt off.

Frizz continued doing what she did best.

"I mean, I totally can't wait to see it, but it isn't out yet so I guess we're seeing something else. Mike wanted to see some action movie that's out now but I told him me and Lauren wouldn't go if that's what we were seeing, so we've decided on the new scary one. It's the movie with that reporter who's following all these firemen and stuff, and they get locked in an apartment building and there's like, a monster there with them. And it looks so freaky 'cause it's done with a hand held camera. God, I bet it's the first movie ever even done like that! It's gonna be so much fun, and we're going out to dinner after so, do you wanna come with?"

I reached in the locker for my camisole and threw my sweater on over it, slithering out of my gym shorts and back into my jeans.

"Bella?"

I looked up.

"Huh?"

"So do you wanna come?"

I furrowed my brow. "To the movies?"

Frizz nodded. "Yeah. With me and Tyler and Mike and Lauren and Angela." She smiled widely.

Aw shit. What to say? Come on think, you need an excuse. Any excuse, just –

A light bulb went off.

"Um, sorry Fri – Jessica. I'm actually meeting someone tonight."

Frizz's face fell and then turned curious in the span of three seconds.

"Who's the someone?"

An evil looking grin spread across her lips.

Fuck.

Bad idea. Uberly fantastic bad idea. Why did you mention him to her? Why?! She just – she just couldn't know. I couldn't handle it if she knew because he was the first person who ever -

I don't know. I don't know what it was.

But he knew me. He knew me.

And she didn't. So she couldn't know about him.

"The bell's about to ring, you better hurry and change." I told her.

Her face was suspicious, but she obeyed anyway.

Her bra was one of those cheap itchy lace ones from Victoria's Secret.

Mine was plain and purple.

Differences.

Always differences.

* * *

I pulled into the driveway, cutting the engine.

Without the roar of my truck, it seemed almost too quiet.

Whatever.

I jumped out, slinging my bag over my shoulder and marching through the rain toward the door. I reached for the key in the flower pot and stuck it in the lock, turning it to the left and letting myself in.

The house smelt like tea and dirt.

Homey and dusty.

Familiar.

I threw my bag on the kitchen table and opened up the fridge. I spotted the orange juice and unscrewed the cap, taking a swig, and then putting it back.

My feet carried me up the stairs and to my room.

I collapsed on my bed.

The covers were soft and dark green.

Muscles clenched and then relaxed.

I reached for the cigarettes under my pillow.

I hadn't been to any sort of playground in four years, much less the one here in Forks. Charlie had told me that I used to play there every week end. He also told me that when I was nine they built a new one across from the middle school.

So the old playground obviously meant the one I used to play in.

What did that mean?

Did he use play there too? He must have known me. He talked to me and there was just something about him. He knew me. So did he play with me? Was that why he asked me to meet him there? Were we child hood frie-

No.

No.

Just, no. Don't go there.

Because if I went there, if I hoped –

No. He would never be my friend. No one would ever be my friend. No one deserved me as a friend.

I lit the cigarette with the lighter in my pocket, bringing it my lips; inhale, exhale, inhale, hold.

Exhale.

But he seemed like he was on the verge of just giving up, there in the bathroom. He didn't know what he was talking about. Being without a home. It was bad. Very bad. He couldn't want that. I couldn't let him want that.

I grabbed my I-pod from the drawer by my bed. Plugged the ear buds into my ears, pressed play. Listened.

Stockholm Syndrome. Muse.

Lovely.

Let the music carry me north.

Let the lyrics pull me south.

Gripped the bed to anchor myself.

I closed my eyes.

Slept.

Dreamed.

_A living room. Dark, old fashioned furniture. Curtained bay windows open to the sunset. A red fire truck lying on the carpet. A piano._

_A little boy and girl, no more then eight._

"_I want to learn to play it someday." He said._

"_Really?"_

"_Yeah."_

_A pause._

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Yeah, I'm sure. And then I can play you songs and we can enter the talent show together. I'll play, you can sing." He looked at her._

_She pursed her lips. "But I can't sing."_

"_Then I'll sing and you can just mouth the words."_

"_But people will see you singing. And you're a boy! Everyone will know it's not my voice!"_

"_Then we'll do something else with the piano." He resolved._

_They both stared at the piano. Big and cherry black and terrifying. _

"_Promise me." She blurted._

"_Promise you what?"_

"_That you'll learn to play and you'll play for me and we can enter the talent show. Promise me."_

_He turned, smiling crookedly._

"_I promise."_

I woke up.

Breath sped, shaking.

Scared.

What was with me today?

Nothing scared me.

I jumped from my bed, pondering over the dream. The girl, the boy, their conversation, the piano.

It was starting to fade.

Fading, fading, fading.

Wait!

No, just a little more time and I could pinpoint it! I knew that boy, that girl, from somewhere! I know I did. And that house –

Familiar.

Everything was so familiar.

A memory.

A memory.

A memory.

I remembered.

That day, us talking, his promise and the annual Fork's talent show. The curtains were red, the couch was gray, his father was –

And then:

It was gone.

Just like that.

Gone.

My knees gave out and I sank to the floor.

The rain fell outside my window.

I sobbed once into my hands, and then hoisted myself off the floor and down the stairs.

Don't break, don't break, you can't break.

I stumbled, gripping the banister until my knuckles turned white.

I had remembered.

For only a moment, for only that one tiny memory.

But I'd remembered something that hadn't happened in the last few years.

And then I'd lost it.

My hand met the wall hard.

"Fuck!"

For the second time that day, I cried.

Lips moved against plaster. "No, no, no, no. Just please no. I just want, I just, I need, please. Please, please. Don't make me forget, I don't want to forget, I want to remember and I, I want her still alive and I want, I want, I – I'll never have."

And I never would.

Because this was life and I was me and me couldn't remember anything past that day when I was thirteen.

I didn't know who I was, didn't know what I liked or if I was kind or mean or weird or had any friends.

Didn't know what I wanted to be when I was five.

All because I had to go out that night for a reason I couldn't even remember, and I had to run a light and their car hit me and she died and I couldn't remember.

And I couldn't remember and I couldn't and I never would.

I'd never hurt someone like that again.

I wish I knew her.

I made Charlie mac and cheese and left it in the microwave with a note taped to front.

Walked out the door.

Walked down the street.

The rain was light and misty and my hair was damp by the time I reached the old playground.

I could still feel the tears on my cheeks.

I jumped the little stone wall that separated the playground from the side walk.

Took a look around.

It was truly a dump. The swing set chains were rusted over and most of the bars on the slide were broken. The ground was littered with garbage and the grass had grown back in, brushing my calves.

Damaged, forgotten.

Like something else of mine.

The sky was a light blue, reddish neat the horizon.

My feet led me around the swing set, then to the right.

Spotted something out of place.

Sharp intake of breath.

He was sitting on one of those hand worked merry-go-rounds, elbows resting on his knees. His sweat shirt was navy and worn, and the stubble on his cheeks was gone.

He was beautiful.

I walked toward him, wondering when he'd hear me and realize I was there.

I stopped a couple feet away from him.

His foot tapped in an even beat.

Headphones were plugged in his ears, the cord disappearing into his pocket.

I reached forward and tugged the cord gently.

He jumped, falling off the merry-go-round.

"Gah! What the fuck are you – "

His mouth closed when he focused on me.

"Oh. Hi."

I nodded. "Hi."

He picked himself up, brushing some dirt off his jeans and then sitting back down. I sat next to him.

We watched the sunset for a moment.

"Got a smoke?" he asked and chuckled.

I handed him a cigarette. We lit up.

"So," he began. "I take it you smoke a lot."

I shrugged. "No. Not really. Just when I'm stressed."

"So you're stressed a lot?"

Damn. He got to the heart of things quickly. "Something like that."

A pause as he inhaled.

"Why did you come?"

What? "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why are you here right now, with me. You don't know me."

"But you know me." I blurted.

He stilled.

"You know me." I repeated.

He looked me in the eyes. Troubled green.

"Something like that."

I bit my lip and looked away.

It was quiet for a moment.

"I came because you looked like you were giving up, and you can't give up because that's just – it's just stupid. And I came because I know you know me from somewhere, and I want to know,"

I paused, and then swallowed.

"I want to know what I was like."

I want to know my own memories. The boy, the piano.

Was that you?

I didn't look at him, and he didn't say anything.

Some birds chirped and something buzzed in my ear. I watched the grass.

"How've you been, these last five years?"

I turned, startled. "So you do know me then?"

His eyebrows nit together and he averted my gaze. "Knew you.

The words felt like something sad and cold. They made me hurt inside.

_Knew you._

_Not know you, knew you._

Like he couldn't know me now.

"I've been fine."

He snorted.

I looked at him.

"What?"

He shook his head, staring down at the ground.

"No really, what?"

He sighed loudly. "Fine. You've been fine. Are you kidding me?"

Abruptly, he turned his entire body around to face me. Grabbed my hands in his own.

I gasped at the contact; his hands were warm and rough and sent tingling shocks up my arms and to my heart. He warmed my cold fingers.

My lip trembled.

"I want to know," he said, and his eyes smoldered. I wanted to shrink back away from him, snuggle close into his chest. "How've you've been." He accentuated each word. His eyes shined dark and green and intense.

And he didn't need to say anymore.

He'd known me, and now he wanted to know if I was okay and what it'd been like. Not just polite small talk. Nothing resembling that. He meant his words.

He wanted to know.

"I'm scared."

The whisper was there and hanging between us before I could stop it.

His eyes stopped smoldering, went wide and shocked. And then he looked horrified.

"No," he said, and his voice was full of regret. "No." He sobbed.

His arm wrapped around me, and it was warm too. Then his other arm, and then he was pulling me into his lap and my head was buried in the crook of his neck.

And it was new.

And it was terrifying.

And he smelled delicious, like ink and something musky and sweet. All of him was warm, radiating heat and making my heart beat faster.

And it was familiar.

And he knew me.

And I never wanted him to let go.

* * *

I welcome any type of review. Flames, text chat swoons, and criticism. Whatever. Doesn't matter. As long as that little number in my statistics box keeps getting larger. )


	3. Chapter 3

okay then. third chapter. exciting. XD No really, it is. I'm cranking these out pretty fast. this chapter isn't my fav, so i might go back and edit it a little more, but it is the longest. not by much, but still, it is. have fun dearies. all thirty of you who've clicked on this.  
**NOT MINE, SO DON'T SUE.  
**ps: last chapter, when i mentioned Muse? seriously guys, i'm not just borrowing off of Steph there. they're awesome. listen. be amazed. actually, read my story, be amazed. anyway. bye now.

* * *

We talked well into the night, until the sky was at its blackest.

He insisted on a piggy back ride.

I stared at him, disbelieving, as he turned around and crouched.

After a moment he glanced back over his shoulder.

"You getting on or what?"

I just shook my head.

"No. You're not doing this. I can walk just fine, and besides, I'm perfectly comfortable sitting right here." I patted the metal surface of the merry-go-round. My rings made clanking noises.

"But I want to." He insisted.

"But I don't."

Stern, be stern.

He straightened and then gave me a hard look.

"Sure."

I raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He rolled his eyes at me. "You know you want to."

I gaped at him. "No, that's, that's stupid. I'm not five."

"Aw, c'mon Bella," he smirked and walked toward me, grabbing my hand. Jolts raced up, up and down, down until I felt them in my toes. "Don't be so uptight."

I scowled and pulled my hand away. "Give me back my cigarettes." I reached for him, aiming for the pocket of his sweat shirt, but he caught my wrist before I got too far.

I looked up into his eyes.

Green, green, green.

Sparkling.

"Not so fast," and he grinned. "I know a better cure for stress."

And then he was yanking me up and throwing me on his back.

My shriek rang in the night.

His laughter joined.

We danced around the playground, circling the merry-go-round too fast. I gripped his shoulders to steady myself.

"Edward, no! Stop –"

And we were spinning.

His laughter returned, louder and fuller then before.

His hair in my face, the stars in the sky and his eyes, and my own laughter chasing after his.

We collapsed into the grass, rolling over each other.

The grass was cold and tall and tickled my face and he was warm.

I clung, and he soothed and we kept laughing until tears fell that weren't happy.

I shook.

He pulled me closer.

And then he spoke:

"Our mothers were best friends in high school. Renee was a few years younger, but that didn't stop them. When my mom graduated she moved to Chicago for college. She met my dad, who was finishing med school. They got married, she got pregnant. And then they moved back here. You mother had just finished high school when she got the news, just gotten married as well."

He paused.

I listened to him breathing. Imagined him as just a few cells in his mother, growing.

"You don't know anything do you?"

I shook my head weakly.

"That's okay."

He resumed his story. "So just a few weeks after my parents had moved back into town, your mom got pregnant."

Wait.

Then -

He chuckled into my hair.

"We were diaper buddies."

A moment of silence.

And: I gasped.

It came flooding back, my rules and why I couldn't do this.

Sat up in his arms.

Just looked at him.

The coppery hair that was too long, in need of a cut. The straight nose. The smooth forehead and the shadows around curves in his face. His eyebrows, a darker red then his hair.

And his eyes.

Green eyes that burned and knew.

We were _friends._

And now I could see where this was going.

"Oh, _God._" I choked, stumbling to my feet.

Stumbling, stumbling, trying to balance.

Failing.

Falling.

How could I have been so stupid?

Getting back up.

Rushing and crushing and suffocating.

"Bella! Wait!"

I could hear him behind me but I all I could think was what I'd done to her. Where my mother was now, the mother that was best friends with his. What I would no doubt do to him and what I couldn't have.

"Bella!"

Footsteps racing after me as I tripped around trees and soda cans.

And then his hand on my arm.

Sparks erupted.

I wrenched my arm away.

Silence.

The branches of a willow swayed sleepily in front of us.

"What are you so scared of?" he whispered.

Broken.

Hopeless.

My fingers clenched and unclenched.

I wanted to turn around and run back to him.

"I – I can't be friends with you."

My words were soft and hurt my throat.

He didn't say anything.

I wished he would. I wished he'd tug me to him and yell at me until I'd stay.

Why was I like this?

Why him?

He knew me.

We were friends.

And he would know me again, I was sure of it, if I gave us the chance.

The first person to ever know me in years.

But I'd hurt him, I know I would.

I hurt everyone.

Flashes of faces.

Charlie.

My mother.

I walked away.

* * *

I slept sporadically. It felt like I was awake, but the time wouldn't have past as fast if I was.

I rose a minute before my alarm, shutting it off and shuffling to the bathroom.

I risked a glance in the mirror.

The walking dead stared back at me.

Poor thing.

The shower should have felt like heaven, but it only served to make me realize how cold I really was.

I turned the heat up.

The water burned in long licks, pelting against my back.

I shivered.

Still, it felt good to be clean finally.

I wrapped a towel around my body and walked back to my room, noting idly that I hadn't seen Charlie in almost two days. I'd make an effort to stay home tonight. Eat dinner with him or something.

Anything to keep my mind off him.

I opened the drawers of my dresser, searching for something to wear. I pulled out my favorite blue jeans with the rips in both knees and a lacy white tank top.

Pretty, and it made me smile.

But I was too cold.

I grabbed a slightly ratty gray V-neck and threw it on. Despite its age, it was still soft and thick. Another of my favorites.

I kept the tank top on under it.

Make up.

I looked at the little bottles and compacts littered across my bureau. Powders and pastes and pencils and a shiny tweezer.

I didn't care about looking nice today. Only not dead.

So I made myself look alive with a little brown eye liner and cherry lip stick.

* * *

I pulled into the student parking lot, picking a spot toward the back.

I had slipped my shoes off at a red light, in search of warmer socks that I had eventually found in the corner of the back seat, and hadn't bothered to put them back on.

I slipped my feet into the Doc Martins now as I stepped outside.

Frizz spotted me from across the way and gave me a look.

It said:

Bella, what are you doing putting your shoes on in the middle of a parking lot and who was the person you met last night and did you catch American Idol and why the fuck is Edward Cullen staring at you like he wants to kill you?

Well, at least that's what I thought she was trying to say, what with her furious hand motions from him to me, him to me, him to me.

He was sitting on a bench with his headphones in.

I tried not to look.

But he didn't.

Frizz motioned for me to come to her.

I bit my lip.

Closed my eyes.

One deep breath.

I would not be his friend.

Would not.

I started walking, keeping my eyes on the puddles.

"Bella!" I cringed.

Please, shut up. I'm tired and you suck.

Go away.

Frizz grabbed my hand and leaned in to whisper in my ear. "Oh. My. God. Have I got news to tell you. Mike kissed me!"

Bits of spit hit my ear at lightning speed. Ew.

"Bella?" Frizz leaned back. "Did you hear me?"

"Uh . . ."

"Mike kissed me!" And this time she squealed it loudly.

Heads turned.

My mouth dropped.

At least it wasn't what I had expected.

"You mean Gay guy?"

Frizz's face froze.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Um, I, just, he's hot."

Frizz's excitement came back full force.

"I know!"

And then she pulled her little Abercrombie shirt down until her boobs were practically falling out, linked arms with me, and proceeded to tell me exactly how great his tongue was.

I spaced out.

That is, until she mentioned him.

"Edward Cullen's staring at you."

Shit.

No.

Don't, _please_ Edward.

"No, he's staring at you." I tried.

Frizz took the bait.

She giggled, patting down her hair. "Ya think?"

"Of course. Everyone stares at you." These kinds of things hurt to say.

She smiled at me, trying to be dazzling and shit, and tossed her hair around some more.

"Well, yeah. That's the price you pay when you're beautiful."

I just nodded.

I don't know what I would have said if I'd actually spoken, but I doubt it would have been pleasant.

Frizz giggled again, and then tugged by hand. "C'mon, let's go to the bathroom."

And so we went to the bathroom.

The door opened and I remembered smoking and what I wanted to be when I was five.

Bile rose and I swallowed it down.

No.

You can't.

There.

Case closed.

If only it would stay that way.

Lauren was there, applying lip stick in the mirror. She puckered her lips at her reflection.

"You think this shade looks hot or what." It wasn't a question, but Frizz answered like it was anyway.

"Oh totally. Lauren you look gorgeous in any shade." Frizz fluttered while Blondie basked in her compliments.

I took a closer look at her.

The lip stick was hot pink, clashing with her hair. Mascara too heavy. Jeans tight and shirt barely there.

Fuck.

Where were my cigarettes?

I was taking my first puff when Lauren noticed me.

Her eyes widened.

Then narrowed.

Little icy blue slits.

"Bella."

I nodded her way. Better not to pick a fight. Just enjoy the nicotine.

Inhale, hold, exhale.

"You look . . . nice." Squeaky voice full of disdain.

I wondered why she was looking at me that way. With that defensive, threatened look. Maybe because I was new. Maybe because I wasn't as dead as yesterday, at least in appearances.

Whatever.

She spent hours on her make up; I spent hours trying to remember when I lost my first tooth.

Point made.

"Thanks,"

"Yeah, you do look pretty Bella." Frizz quipped and smiled and fluttered at me some.

I wished the bitch'd just say what she really felt.

Enough of the "I say what you say" bullshit.

But she just turned back to Lauren and fluffed her hair some more.

Then abruptly:

"Edward Cullen was staring at me."

Lauren dropped her eyelash curler and turned to look at her.

Jaw dropped and jealously written across every feature.

Frizz was oblivious.

"Seriously?"

"Oh my God, yeah. He was totally giving me the once over."

Lauren leaned back into the sink and fanned herself. "How did you not, like, faint or something? He is so yummy. So tall and that _hair!_"

They teetered, and then Lauren stopped.

"Wait. C'mon, he might be interested but seriously, the guy's a freak. He only talks to like four people in this entire school."

Frizz's face fell.

Lauren's lit up.

I recognized her game.

Discourage the opponent. Make it seem not worthwhile.

She wanted him to herself.

I closed my eyes tight for a moment and brought the cigarette up for another deep puff.

Closed case.

Closed case.

Opening.

Walked to the window in the back of the bathroom.

Not mine.

Not theirs.

He belonged to the world, and I wouldn't take that freedom away from him.

Wouldn't hold him down by being there with my issues.

I couldn't hurt him.

Fuck.

There was someone already here.

Two someones.

They sat on the floor of the handicapped stall, the door missing from its hinges so I could see easily inside.

They were lovely. Both girls, both extraordinarily different. But beautiful.

The first, a striking blonde with clear cerulean eyes. The second, a slip of a girl with delicate features and short, inky hair.

A pixie.

And her eyes.

Ah, fuck, her eyes were _his_ eyes.

Deep forest green, sparkling and blazing and burning.

They looked at me another moment.

And they knew.

I could tell.

They just, knew.

They smiled two brilliant smiles that said everything a smile should say.

I was being dumped into the ocean.

I was going to drown.

Christ.

Why couldn't the world understand, that I _just didn't want friends?_

* * *

so like i said, not my favorite, but still alright.

but now you know you want to push the little blue button . . . .


	4. Chapter 4

hey lovies. this took a little longer then originally planned, so sorry. thanks for all the spectacular reviews. you're all amazing. tell me if i'm getting to repetitive, k? cause even though that's my style, sometimes i wonder if it's a bit too much or not. also, how bout ya tell me what you guys want/expect to happen. i'm interested. XD

don't own babes.

* * *

"Hello," The blonde spoke politely. Swirly blue eyes hesitant, but lips pulled into a true smile.

I was frozen.

Cause, oh God, what could I do?

Too many angels all at once; please don't save me. I haven't learned enough to be saved yet. And your mission will only fail.

Falter and spiral and crash.

Bloody bodies, wreckage.

No more.

No more.

The little pixie was staring at me like she knew me, so I didn't meet her eyes.

His eyes.

I stared at the floor, nodded.

Tried to think of a way out of this corner I'd backed myself into.

"I'm Rosalie," The blonde said.

Her eyes flickered to my hand, and then back to my face.

Wide blue eyes met my own. Shocked. Trying to act normal.

Despite herself, she looked again.

"Your, um, your cigarette is burning out."

I glanced down at the forgotten little cylinder, stuck between my middle and pointer finger.

True.

"Uh, thanks." It came out like a question.

But I tried to act calm.

They knew me, but I'd act like they didn't and I wouldn't pursue it like last time.

No room for any more mistakes.

I brought the cigarette back to my lips for a last breath and then stubbed it out against the wall.

When I looked back at them, the pixie's face had contorted into that of a veracious kitten's.

Her dainty black eyebrows knit together, her mouth open in an 'o'.

Emerald eyes and blue eye shadow met mine.

She was mad.

"You," she seethed. "_Smoke?!_"

Rosalie tugged on her sleeve, shaking her head frantically.

She shook her off, still glaring at me.

"Um, uh, –" I tried

She snarled, cutting me off.

"No, no, do _not_ finish that sentence! Those things are killing you!"

I grimaced.

Rosalie hissed.

This lecture again.

I knew what I was getting into when I picked up the habit. I didn't need anyone to remind me.

But somehow, there was always that one asshole who was convinced that I did not know that inhaling smoke and chemicals was bad for me.

Pixie looked like she was waiting for an answer.

I only hopped this would go by quickly so I could escape and transfer schools or something.

I was wrong.

I am a coward.

Now it's back to Phoenix.

I shrugged.

She fluffed out with anger.

Wrong move.

The girl screeched and was on her feet in an instant.

Not the reaction I expected.

"Well okay then, little Miss I-don't-care-if-I-die-of-_lung-cancer_! Hope you enjoyed that _death stick_, cause it's the last you'll ever have!"

What?

And here came the tornado.

She ripped the pack from my hands, tearing it to bits.

White cigarettes showered the tiled floor.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I demanded.

She whipped her head around, face full of every roar and growl in the forest.

And then she froze.

Saw something in my expression maybe.

Her lip trembled once, twice, and then her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh Bella!" And she was hurling herself into my arms.

I caught her.

Dumbstruck.

So now my memories were chasing me.

She sobbed into my shirt. "What, what, who are you? Don't you remember when you, you promised me when we were seven, that you'd never ever, ever, ever, ever smoke? Bella, don't you, don't, Bella,"

No.

I don't remember.

I wish I did though, if that counts for anything.

Something whispered in my ear to put my arms around her, and I did, hugging her tight. Being silent. Stroking her wild hair.

I didn't notice before.

At her scalp, the roots.

They were bronze.

Rosalie leaned against the wall, watching.

Her blue eyes were red rimmed.

How was I always hurting people?

Even those I didn't even know.

The pixie shifted in my arms, looking into my face.

_God_, was she sad looking.

"Bella, please," And she was pleading. "Please remember Bell, I just, you have to come back to us. You just have to."

Her watery eyes hardened.

"You will," she repeated.

So hopeful.

It wasn't worth it sweetheart.

"You'll remember."

She straightened, wiping at a stray tear.

"But for now I'm just gonna be you new friend." She said.

And she nodded to herself, sniffling.

She held out a tiny hand. Smiled a smile of everything.

"I'm Alice,"

And looking at her I just –

Couldn't do it.

She wanted so badly to _fix me._

But there was nothing to fix.

It was like the parts had just vanished.

I'd hurt this Alice.

And swirly-eyed Rosalie.

Edward.

Just, _no_.

The case was closed and the door was locked and they weren't coming in.

Final words written, I spoke them:

"I'm sorry. I can't."

I walked past them and tried not to look back.

Alice burst into sobs for hopefully the last time.

* * *

I spent lunch in the library, eating chips and snickers from the vending machine.

I didn't read, just sort of sat there.

Repeated a couple mantras in my head.

_You love pain, you know you do, so soak all of the pain up , soak it up, soak it up, deal with it, soak it up, c'mon, just don't give in, suck it up._

Little needles pricked my heart.

Over and over and over again.

Making tiny holes.

But that wasn't all of it.

The needles were tied to strings too, and the strings were being pulled.

Pulled and pulled and yanked and pulled.

I knew where they'd lead me.

_Right there, everything you've always wanted._

Everything I will never have.

Everything I'll hurt.

Everything I don't remember.

_So just make new memories._

No.

God, why can't it just stay closed?

I'll _hurt _them.

_And you think they aren't already? Let go. Let go and fix this._

I could, couldn't I?

I could go to them. Be friends.

I could see it, the space I would fill.

Feel it.

Longed to be there.

Would it really be so terrible?

A few tears?

But God no, where was this going?

_Mom._

I'd never even remember calling her that.

The window pane was clouded over with fog.

I drew a tulip with my finger.

This whole goddamned move was a disaster.

I should have just stayed with Cal in Phoenix.

Helped him run the restaurant my entire life.

Die in my sixties from a heart condition, surrounded by cats and nobody else.

Should've, could've, would've.

Didn't.

Never would.

That was one promise I would keep.

I wouldn't die like that.

I'd find myself.

In this town, with these people.

Somewhere buried under all the years.

I hadn't expected them to be already unearthed.

Ready.

Just in need of some dusting.

Too easy.

Too much.

And I would do this without hurting anyone.

Especially them.

I wasn't here to meet and greet and reunite.

Just to analyze and leave with my results.

Find a major for college next year or something.

But no.

God was being a bitch.

Fucking God.

* * *

I felt disconnected from my body.

Like it wasn't me floating down the stairs. Throwing away my soda. Trying to smoke and then just . . . failing.

The cigarettes were carried away by the wind.

Crushed under my feet.

The smoke just couldn't sooth the burning in my lungs. Couldn't warm me or take away any of the stess.

I kept remembering piggy back riding.

Little tunes sprung from my lips as I walked into biology.

Melodies.

Couldn't tell if they were of my own creation or not. Had a bitter sweet feel.

The teacher gave me a hard look as I entered the classroom. Tried to make holes in my skull. He was balding, middle aged with a sad face that said he thought he could have been doing something better. He was wearing a green plaid suit. Tie too wide.

I glanced around; looked like biology.

"Miss Swan," he greeted.

I nodded.

Curt, fast.

Hummed another line.

His little eyes narrowed. "I don't think I had the pleasure of meeting you yesterday."

The tune made me smile.

His words made me snarky.

"Oh. So sorry. I was busy hating the world and cutting my wrists."

That surprised him. Made him short with me too. His nostrils flared.

I sang a few words to my little song, locking them away for later.

"Just, don't be late again." He said finally.

My humming ceased.

"I'm late?"

Some giggles from the seated students.

The teacher gave me another look. "Miss Swan, the late bell rang ten minutes ago. Now I would send you to the principal's office, but since it is your first week, or first day when it comes to this particular class, I'll let you off easy. But next time –"

"You won't be as generous. Yeah. I get it. I'll be here tomorrow."

"And you will be on time." He added.

I nodded.

I could feel stares.

Teacher gestured to the back of the classroom.

"You'll be sitting next to Mr. Cullen over there."

Little murmurs from people as I passed.

"Damn Cullen. I was going to try to ask her out or something but now . . ." Gay Guy. I mean, Mike. He sure got around fast. Especially for a homosexual.

"Poor girl. He scares me and now she has to work with him . . .

"Think they're gonna hook up? I mean c'mon, Cullen's a freak and she totally is too . . .

"Look at her shoes! They're all clunky and black, I didn't notice . . . "

I hated when people made fun of my Docs.

Stupid people. Fucking trends.

My bag made scratching sounds as I dragged it down the aisle.

I kept my eyes on the floor, wanting the unveiling of my lab partner for the next year to be a surprise.

Scary could mean lots of things. But most likely, in this small town, it was probably some Goth kid who made a show of hating the world.

We'd get along quite nicely then.

I reached the last table, dropped my bag on the floor and sat in the chair.

Put my chin in my hands and listened to teacher start the lesson.

Listened to my partner.

I'd yet to glance at him.

He rustled around some papers.

Sighed.

Ran a hand through his hand.

Shifted in his chair.

Wrote something on a piece.

And then that piece of paper was in front of me.

One sentence. Elegant, loopy script. Plain black pen and no mistakes. Pristine.

A note?

I bent to read.

_I'm starting to hate you._

Noise faded.

Air sucked from the room.

Lights brightened.

Fuck.

It was him.

_Him._

_Cullen._

How had I _missed_ that?

The fidgeting and the hair thing – that too should have gave me a clue.

No. Instead I sat next to him obliviously for ten whole minutes.

Nice.

Shit.

_Shit._

I'm starting to hate you?

_What?_

He hated me?

A tiny little strangled gasp-cry thing wiggled its way out of my throat.

I put my hand over my mouth.

The sinking started.

Pulling me down.

Dragging me.

My stomach was being flipped and punched and drowned.

The tugging on my heart intensified.

This is _good_.

Very good.

Great.

If he hates you, this can all be easy and fast.

Just, find yourself.

And then get out.

Simple.

Then why did it hurt?

The pen was in my hand, my fingers wrapped around it.

I shouldn't be doing this.

Stay away Bella, you idiot, you fucking moron.

But no, you're writing now.

The response was shaky.

_That's okay._

The sooner he learned I wasn't who he remembered me to be, that I _hurt_ people, the better.

He didn't write back.

We ignored each other for a minute.

I counted the seconds that went by.

My teeth dug into my lip.

I wanted to look at him.

No Bella.

No.

Teacher walked out of the room. Excited conversations started up around us.

They were hushed as Teacher came back in, rolling a TV set.

A movie day? On the second day of school?

Well. This was Forks.

The documentary started and the lights were dimmed.

Cool darkness shrouded the room.

Blanketing and covering.

Something hummed between us.

My breath came too fast and then too slow. And always quivering.

Tips of fingers tingled.

Arms felt empty and cold.

God, I was cold.

The warmth radiated from his body.

I peeked at him.

Forest green eyes of everything met mine.

Flaming and scorching their way into my own.

Hair fell messily around his face.

Face haggard, stubble back. Circles cut deep and black under his eyes.

No.

God, no.

I couldn't.

But I wanted to, so badly.

What was he thinking?

What did he want?

Cause I barely knew what I did anymore.

His lips parted and I wanted to pull him away with me and hid in a corner of the world where no one would find us and I wasn't a monster.

We could drive all night together, eat McDonalds.

How had he done this to me?

He crept into my life barely twenty four hours ago. Undetected, but not quite subtle either. Taken everything and thrown it and no no no, that wasn't it.

Or maybe it was.

I just didn't know.

"Bella," on a breathy whisper, and even that filled some hole I didn't know was there.

"I'm sorry." I blurted.

His eyes were cheerless. "But you can't . . ."

I closed my eyes briefly. Met his again. "Yeah,"

I swallowed another strangled sound and just kept looking at him.

He nodded.

But he didn't look away either.

"I wish you wouldn't."

A bitter smile. "If I wasn't . . ."

I couldn't finish.

He got it anyway. "It doesn't matter to me -"he started.

"It does to me."

Anger added to the lack of cheer in his eyes. "And you just, I can't ever even do anything with, you can't dismiss it like that."

My eyes stung. "Sorry."

His face hardened. "I'm not giving up on you. I won't just let you rot in some deluded world you've constructed for yourself –"

"Mr. Cullen!" Teacher scolded.

One more burning look.

Buzzing electricity.

"Hang on Bella."

He turned away.

"My apologies Mr. Banner." Edward answered.

I was without contact.

Without memories.

The part of myself I'd thought I'd found in his eyes flickered and faded.

I grasped the edge before it flew away and held tight.

* * *

thoughts, questions and any other old shit are greatly appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

Hey all yee cherubs. sorry this took me so obscenely long. it's just, i have this thing where i can only write at night, when inspiration strikes. and unfortunately, inspiration took a really long time to strike for this chap. but, there is good news. when it did strike, it struck hard. so now y'all have TWO chapters to read! Whoo!

Except, i don't think i'll give the next one to you. (and it's definitely juicy, folks) maybe you should, i don't know, give me some reviews? encourage the author to with compliments? . . .

**Don't own.**

* * *

I'd been a good girl.

I hadn't skipped school. I'd done my homework. I cooked and did the laundry and sat with Lauren and Frizz and company at lunch.

But I was coming undone.

The weight of the past seven days was beginning to take effect.

I hadn't gotten a gotten a good night's sleep since Phoenix.

I'd lost five pounds.

And I felt like I was living in fucking Antarctica. I wore three pairs of socks and two sweaters to school every day, and I was still convulsing with shivers.

And I missed them.

And that was stupid. Just, pathetic.

I barely knew them. No, I _didn't _know them.

But it still hurt to see them sitting at their table across the cafeteria. It still felt like someone was pressing cookie cutters into my heart when I sat across from him in Biology.

And true to his word, he hadn't given up.

His eyes seared into the back of my head in the hallways. He stuck dozens of notes into my locker. He watched me like a hawk in the parking lot.

But he never tried to talk to me. Not once. Not even in Bio.

I didn't know how much more I could take.

Didn't know if I wouldn't crack under all this.

And I was already beginning to.

My reasoning was fraying and losing consistency.

I was breaking.

I found myself glancing out my car window to him, as he leaned on his Volvo, staring at me.

Dying to run to him.

Reaching for the door handle even, and then just barely stopping myself from ruining everything.

Opening that door would kill him.

Fuck.

I was . . .

No, I already had. All my cool, calm composure. Gone.

It made me mad.

Furious.

I wanted to smack him, scream at him to go away and rebury himself. To take all the feelings and the barely there memories and the dreams and shove them up his ass.

Just, leave me alone.

Let me find everything I've ever wanted without you, cause I never asked for your help and you scare me and I know I'll hurt you, you great big jerk.

I was losing my mind.

And you know, on top of it all, I hadn't even made any progress in "finding myself".

Nothing.

Even after looking through old files and talking with former teachers, I was completely empty handed. I'd even pulled another McDonalds-all-nighter in my truck, but had only succeeded in giving myself a migraine from staring at the playground for so long.

So I went home on Thursday afternoon, frustrated and freezing. I dropped my bag in the hallway, kicking off my Docs and stomping to the kitchen.

I needed . . . something. A distraction. Anything.

Dinner. A really massive dinner that will take me a while. Yeah.

Two hours later, the table was set and Charlie was due back any minute. I leaned back in my chair, admiring my work. Mushroom Lasagna, roasted potatoes and a Mediterranean salad. A little starchy and out there, but then again, so was my mother.

The door creaked open exactly three minutes later.

"Bells?" He called.

"Hey Dad."

Two thuds as he toed off his boots.

"Something smells good."

"Yep."

Cue spot lights: my father appeared in the door way.

I watched his eyes widen as he took in what was on the table.

"Um, wow Bells. Thanks." He loosened his collar. Sat down in his chair at the head of the table. He reached for the lasagna, cutting himself a square.

We assembled our plates in silence.

"So, how was school?" He asked abruptly.

"Fine."

"Oh. Uh, any plans for the weekend?"

I shrugged. "Just thought I'd stay around the house. Clean a little."

"Sounds good."

He took a bite of potato.

"Billy is coming over from LaPush tomorrow with his son to watch the game."

My brow furrowed. "Billy?"

"He's a family friend. We go fishing sometimes. I don't think you'd remember him anyway, even if you had your, um . . . " He trailed off.

"Memory." I finished.

I separated the mushrooms from the lasagna and cut them into fourths.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"What was I like?"

Might as well interrogate the family.

"Uh, what?"

"Like, just what was I like? Did I have a lot of friends or a favorite color or a goal in life? Things like that."

Charlie set down his fork.

He was quiet for a moment.

"You were a good kid. Didn't get into too much trouble. You liked the color gold and really wanted a rabbit. You didn't have a lot of friends. But the ones you did have, they were real good. The kind you kept for life."

He paused, scratching the back of his neck.

"Who were they?" I asked.

The corner of his lips turned up in a grimace-smile. "The Cullens. The Hales. The McCartys. Rosalie, Alice and Edward are seniors, like you. Emmet and Jasper are in their first year of college. You guys were always together. Studying and at each other's houses. You'd spend whole weeks sleeping over at one of their houses. It freaked me out a little at first, but . . ."

Here he shrugged.

"I got used to it."

A break, as I processed this.

"What did we do together?"

"I don't know." He said. "Normal kid stuff. You build a tree house. Played those horrible shooting games. Stole a couple of my beers when you were eleven and got drunk as ever with that Cullen boy."

His face darkened. "Never did trust him after that."

He looked back at his plate and ate a fork full of lasagna, ignoring his salad.

I stared at the food.

My throat felt soar. My breaths heavy.

How . . . stupid. We got drunk. I slept over at their houses. Alice probably braided my hair and I definitely painted Rose's toes. We shot green aliens with machine guns. A rope with Edward's toy fire truck was tied to the tree house and Jasper liked raspberry soda. Emmett stole porn from his father and showed us his favorite spreads over Sunday brunch.

God, I wanted it all back.

The memories. The years, so I could do it over and not screw up it all up.

I wanted to give in to and fit back into that place by Edward's side, trading shoes with Alice and CDs with Jasper.

I . . . fuck.

Just, Damnitt. Why did everything have to be so fucked up?

Why me?

Why now?

Why Mushroom Lasagna and not the chicken in the freezer?

Everything faded in and out of focus and my visions was going and "Dad, I think I need some air, okay?"

I stood up, my seat falling to the floor.

Stumble, stumble, stumble to the living room and out into the garage. My bike was leaning against the far wall.

I hadn't since the night my mother died.

I grabbed it, wheeled it out the front door and down the porch steps.

Kicked off at the curb.

I flew.

Soared.

Peddled.

Climbed hills and circled blocks.

The rain pelted my back and soaked my hair. Washed away my skin and struck my bones.

My legs ached.

But I just . . . kept going.

Flashes of places and people I didn't know but did somehow danced in and out of the spotlight.

I rode down back streets and through a park.

Around a corner and in front of the school.

Back to my block and beyond.

Lightening gleamed long and bright, lighting up the dark clouds. I waited for the thunder, but it never came.

My numb fingers hit the bell on the handles. Once. Twice. Over and over again. One little note, ringing in the storm.

And then –

I stopped.

My head was too light, lighter then my weightless legs as I stepped from the bike. I let it fall. Walked up the pathway to the dark house with the one lit window.

I tripped on the welcome mat, rang the door bell over and over and over and over again.

Like the bell on my bike, except this time, I couldn't hear it.

Hugged my arms and tried to shrink into myself.

Tears were spilling for the hundred and third time that week, and God, what was I doing?

You're a wreck.

You'll hurt someone, you moron, you idiot.

He shouldn't do these things to you and it makes you mad, dumby, so why are you crying?

It's over. Don't make friends, he doesn't mean anything, go find yourself and go to college and have kids and this is not what you should do and and and –

The door opened.

I melted.

He was wearing sweatpants and an old Queen T-shirt. Alert and startled and scruffy. Green eyes stared into brown for an immeasurable amount of tick-tock-holding-breath time.

They flickered to the bike left on the sidewalk.

"You rode here."

I nodded.

He looked to my feet.

"You're not wearing shoes."

My feet trembled in my wet socks.

"Yeah."

The corner of his lip pulled up reluctantly.

He looked at my feet a moment longer, than opened the door wider.

"Get in here."

It was so good to hear his voice.

I staggered inside, lurching forward. He caught me, and held tight.

And it was exactly what I needed.

I held on to him, pulling myself close. Because he was blissfully, wonderfully warm and solid and there.

"Does this mean . . . ?" He murmured, and his breath blew into my hair.

"I don't know," I whispered. "I don't know. Just, please, just hold me."

"Okay."

His arms wrapped tighter around me, lifting me off the ground and onto my tiptoes.

And we stood there, breathing and clutching onto each other just because that was all we could do at that moment.

No more words.

No more tears.

No more worries.

Just, hold me a moment a moment longer, until dawn breaks my nightmare.

* * *

Is it just me, or is anyone else bothered that this site keeps updating its look. it's creeping me out, all these changes.

on the bright side, the review button is bigger. so guys, why do you, ah, push it . . . .


	6. Chapter 6

hey y'all. **wow**. just, wow. thank you, thank you, thank you. seriously. each and every single one of you rocks. **hard**.

now, one reviewer of mine (i have _reviewers!)_pointed out that i tend to repeat myself . . . and repeat myself . . . and that gets boring . . . boring . . . boring . . . boring . . . you get the picture. sorry bout that. XD i know, it drags, but i write what feels right. and that's what feels right. which is why this chapter is not very interesting. as usual. again, sorry y'all.

on another note, guess whose TEACHER is taking all three of his classes to see the Twilight movie next Friday. that's right. mine is. weird. though, i must say, i am excited, if not peeved at the all the attention the books are getting. it's just annoying. and to tell you the truth, i didn't really even like Eclipse and Breaking Dawn all that much. they just, didn't do it for me.

eh.

anyway, sorry for the rambling. **DON'T OWN.**

* * *

"Bell?" He whispered.

"Yeah?"

"You'll get sick if you stay in those clothes."

"You don't get sick from being wet. Or cold."

"Whatever girl. Come with me."

He pulled me along by the hand, up the stairs.

They creaked and I wondered about monsters that hid in basements.

We reached the top and he led me to the left. A door stood ajar at the end of the hill, spilling dim light. He turned the handle, entering the room. I let his hand slip from mine.

I stood in the doorway, observing. Band posters on the walls. A keyboard in the corner and mismatched bed sheets. Shoes and shirts on the carpeted floor.

I looked to him. He raked a hand through his hair, looking away sheepishly.

"Uh, I know it's a pigsty. But I wasn't exactly expecting company so –"

"It's fine." I said and I meant it.

He moved to his dresser, opening some drawers.

I walked around, inspecting his bookshelf and the CD rack in the corner.

I held up one in question. "Beyonce?"

He turned around. His face contorted and he snorted. "My sister."

"Ah." I went back to shuffling through his things.

"Um Bella, if you want to change-"

"Oh, yeah, sorry."

I walked toward him, holding out my arms. He didn't move, kinda clutching the clothes to his chest.

"It's not silk nightgowns or anything," he began. "But at least you'll be dry. I wouldn't want you coming down with bronchitis or anything, especially if it was my fault. And everything's clean too, so don't go smelling it – I wouldn't give you dirty clothes, I hope you know that –"

"Edward."

He stopped and red tinted his cheeks. Pink under brown stubble. God, he was gorgeous.

"The clothes?" I asked.

"Oh. Here."

He placed the bundled in my arms.

"The bathrooms down the hall. Try to be quiet. I really don't think my parents would be too thrilled to find you brushing your teeth in their sink."

I smirked, tightening my grip on the clothes. "Sure, but I'll have to use your toothbrush."

"What, you didn't bring your own?" He grinned back.

"You didn't bring the silk nightgowns either."

He chuckled and I opened his door, stepping back into the hall.

The bathroom was nice. Big and all white and marble. There was even a little vase of pink roses by the tub.

How cute.

How strange.

I was in his house, soaking wet, staring at the roses in his bathroom.

Consequences, Bella. What about the consequences?

But I just, couldn't deal with that right now.

I stripped myself of my clothes, peeling back the wet jeans from my legs. He'd given me his boxers, which made me smile and flush, and an old Mickey Mouse shirt, which made me smile even wider.

Ridiculous.

Adorable.

And they smelled like him; sweet and musky and minty and maybe a little orangey.

I almost ran back to his room.

He was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

I leaned against the doorframe, watching him.

A digital clock glowed lime green by his bed. 12:54.

"Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"If you could write one word in the sky, for everyone to see, what word would it be?"

I paused. And then laughed.

He turned and looked at me.

"What?"

"That's just, such a bizarre question."

He shrugged. "Then give me a bizarre answer."

That made me stop.

I stared at his hair.

"I think that's unfair," I said finally. "Just having that one word. I think everyone should be able to have their own word written in the sky, to look at every day and remind them to be a better person."

He was quiet a moment.

Just staring at me, in his shirt and boxers. And then he nodded and smiled crookedly.

"Usually people just answer with 'love' or 'peace' or some other shit."

He smiled crookedly at me.

I shrugged. "I just find it weird you actually ask people that."

He shrugged back at me. "Wanna get something to eat?"

"Yes please."

He stood up and led me out the door again and down the stairs. I squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back.

Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in his massive, all glass and black granite kitchen, snacking.

His shoulders shook with laugher.

"No, really? You fainted?!"

I scowled, and he pressed a hand to his mouth, suppressing the chuckles. "Who faints after riding a roller coaster?" He snorted loudly, and his head met the table with a thunk.

"It's not funny!"

That only made him laugh harder.

"Edward!"

I crossed my arms, leaning back in my chair with a huff. "Jerk." I muttered and grabbed a Cheeto from the open pack in my lap and threw it at his head.

He shot up, swiping at his hair.

There was orange dust on his forehead.

I giggled and he glared at me.

"You're just, you," he sputtered.

And then his lips turned up into a mischievous grin. "I'm gonna get you."

Uh oh.

He lunged, and I yelped.

One arm encircled my waist while the other wiggled to my stomach and –

I shrieked with laugher, clawing at his arms.

_Thud._

We froze.

Silence.

"Was that . . . ?" I whispered.

"Shhh. No. I don't think so. But we better be quiet or else they will find us, eventually." He warned.

His eyes found mine. "Silly girl, can't even tickle you without waking my parents." They softened, pillow-y green and sparkly.

I reached for another Cheeto.

He leaned forward and took one too and then dug into the pocket of his sweatshirt.

He pulled out a pack of Marlboro Lights.

I stared at them in confusion.

"I never gave them back to you."

My eyes shifted to his face.

"Sorry," he added.

"Oh. Well, you got a light?"

And suddenly, I craved a cigarette like I did air. My muscles felt tight and coiled, like springs.

He handed me one, and produced at red lighter. He leaned forward, breath in my face. He smelled like artificial cheese and soap. His hair brushed my brow and my lower lip quivered.

He ran his thumb over the gears; a little flame appeared at the top of the lighter and he held it up to the cigarette between my lips.

He sat back in his chair, watching me. I sucked in, reveling in smoke and nicotine. Limbs loosened to jelly, and I exhaled. The gray disappeared in the dark kitchen.

"Thanks," I murmured.

He smiled. "You're Welcome."

I beamed.

And sighed.

He tugged me by the wrist, bringing me close to him. Our breath mingled, and I clutched the Cheetos bag tighter in my right hand.

He plucked the cigarette from my lips and pressed his own to my forehead. The skin blazed and tingled. Spread something down to my toes.

My hands locked behind his neck and I buried my face in his neck.

Hide me away from the world.

"Don't go back out there, ever. Stay with me." He whispered.

And here was a defining moment.

Pleading, he was pleading.

And I couldn't figure it out.

He should be pushing me away.

He should hate me.

I shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be this close to him.

I couldn't remember him, and he brightened and dulled and ignited everything in me like he'd done it a million times before.

Like he knew me before I was a monster and a bitch.

I'd hurt him, if I let him know me again.

Cripple, damage, burn.

He was warm around me and I could feel his heart beating.

My own beat in synch. Matching. He reeled in the line, dragging me closer to him and tying the note.

And it was sealed.

I couldn't do it anymore.

No more denying, because the weight was too great and I couldn't fight it anymore.

I was weak and not made for wars.

Only for him.

So I gave in.

"Okay."

His arms fell away, but it didn't feel like a rejection.

He assessed me. Appraising my face and the conviction in my eyes.

His own were wary.

God, no. They were –

"Don't be scared." I said.

"But you are too."

I didn't know how to answer.

He looked away.

That stung.

"I'm – I don't know how to . . ."

His eyes closed for a moment, tight and thoughtful.

"So, here's the question: Are you ready to stop pretending you don't feel something here, that you don't want to be here with me?"

I bit my lip.

God, to be with him, and the rest of them.

How I longed for it.

But.

But.

Enough with the buts Bella.

It doesn't matter anyway.

Just, one more thing.

"When the car hit, I was riding here, wasn't I?"

His eyes opened.

Wide, shocked, hopeful.

He nodded.

"You –"He tried.

"It's only some things. Only very recently."

He nodded again. Then: "Yeah, you were coming here."

Green darkened to black. A broken smile. "Don't, don't ever do that again, okay? No more riding your bike at night, during thunderstorms."

So pitiable.

So lost.

I'd hold your hand and led you away from all this and promise that everything would be alright, but honestly, I suck at keeping promises and I'm just as blind as you in all this.

So let's grope in the darkness together.

"I'll stop pretending."

His expression didn't change.

C'mon Edward, we have to find the light.

"I surrender."

And away I swirled.

I held up my hands in defeat and cracked a smile.

He still looked lost. Dark and disturbed. "You're not back. But you're . . . here." He mumbled.

Green interrupted black.

There he was.

A whoosh of air escaped my lips.

"You're here." He repeated.

And he reached for me again.

Hold tight, and don't ever let go or else I swear to God I'll break.

"Tell me," he breathed. "Tell me something that you remember."

He wound his fingers in my hair and tugged on the ends.

"You play piano. And Emmett thinks it's gay. But he told me once he secretly wished he could play too."

He chuckled.

I felt something warm and wet in my hair.

"Edward?"

He rubbed my back. "Shhh Bell. It's alright."

I hugged him close. "Don't cry Edward."

"It's alright, it's alright, you're here, you're here." He chanted.

We rocked like that for a while. Swaying from side to side. His hands stroking my hair occasionally, brushing my cheek.

And suddenly, I was tired. Heavy lids, bed collapsing tired.

He bundled me up in his arms, picking me up. I pressed my face to his chest, listening for that heat beat as we climbed the staircase.

"Edward?" I whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"I don't know. Just, thanks."

"Okay Bell."

He set me down on his bed, tucking me under the covers. He pulled away –

And I grabbed his shirt, bunching my fingers in it.

"Stay," I whimpered.

He leaned back toward me, unclasping my fingers one by one. "I just have to turn the lights off. I'll be right back."

He was gone for a second, and then darkness shrouded his bedroom.

I felt him come back and sighed.

He slithered in next to me and I snuggled closer. Our limbs intertwined, and he was so, so warm.

Defrosting my frigid heart under feather down darkness.

"Goodnight," he breathed.

But I was already gone.

I dreamt of him being there in the morning.

* * *

hey all twenty two of my alerts! REVIEW already assholes!


	7. AN

This is not an update. Real sorry about that. It's taking me a little longer the usual, so just bear with me.

Alright.

The Twilight movie is out in approximately two hours.

I _am_ going to see it. I _am_ complexly psyched (in my opinion, they couldn't have done better with the cast).

I'm just also extremely nervous.

The fandom has changed so much in the past year, it's ridiculous. There are actual Twilight clubs at my school, and you can't go anywhere without seeing someone clutching a copy. It's always "Edward that, or "Edward this," or "OMG, Breaking Dawn!" which is another issue in itself, because really, Breaking Dawn was a bit of a joke. Plus, it's all over the News. Just, everywhere.

And I really hate that. It's teeny bobber mania. A trend.

It's hardly fair too. So the books are good. Cool plot, okay writing, romance, and relatable characters. And somehow this formula has made them the best book in the world.

They really, really aren't.

It's a fluffy love story.

Stephenie Meyer isn't dumb.

But she isn't brilliant either.

The books are hardly worth all this attention.

And it gets me even madder when someone says "Yeah, I didn't like it." Cause try as I might, I've been here since New Moon's release.

A fully fledged fan.

Loyal, but not so proud at what the fandom has become.

Example A:

A pathetic mass of screaming, swooning, pathetic girls.

Example B:

REPEAT.

Yes, I know I'm being a bit of a hypocrite. These past few months have been pretty harsh on me.

Anyway, here's the problem:

Once the move is released (one hour and fifty two minutes), Twilight will get even more attention.

This means huge sales. Merchandise. And a shit load more fanfiction.

Okay, so who knows? Maybe I'm just being pessimistic and this will be a good thing. Maybe all the stories will be awesome and no one will act stupid and we'll have some dignity.

And maybe I'm George Bush.

Ugh.

To put it nicely, this fandom is about to get a whole lot stupider.

And if they shot for sequels . . . _shudder_.

I love these books. Truly, I do. But all this attention, at least for me, is unwanted and unnecessary, and frankly, very embarrassing.

So cheers to living through this nightmare.

And as the commercials go:

_**Nothing will ever be the same.**_


	8. Chapter 7

my muse has this annoying habit of only giving spurts of inspiration at random intervals. so . . . at least it's up before Christmas, right? XD sorry again guys. promise you the next one won't take nearly as long. absolutely adore you all for the reviews, and surprisingly, the MOVIE wasn't that bad. yeah, it had its cheesy moments. and i wished more of Bella and Edward's witty dialect was kept. but mostly, i just squealed like a fan girl. XD

**Don't own.**

* * *

I was having the most wonderful dream.

Someone was playing the piano, and I was sitting next to them, holding one of their hands. The melody was simple, but sweet. Just the tiniest bit sad.

I rolled, colliding with something hard and warm. Sighing, I snuggled closer.

I hadn't slept this good in . . . forever.

The sheets were soft and the covers fluffy. I was warm and happy and well rested, waking up in that leisurely way you do after a night's rest uninterrupted by alarms clocks.

I breathed deeply, burying myself under a pillow.

Beside me, someone chuckled.

I shot up.

And it all came tumbling back.

Last night.

Those few, meandering memories that had somehow fallen back into place.

And him.

I stared at him.

Because, thank you Jesus, he was still there.

He was lying next to me, propped up on his elbow. His hair stood straight up and his eyes were warm and sleepy.

"Hi." He whispered.

"Hi."

"Sleep well?"

"I think I used the Cheetos bag as a teddy bear."

He grinned and poked my nose.

Touch.

Electricity.

God.

How was I going to get used to this?

Since I guess now, we were friends. Maybe?

But this, this couldn't work. I'd hurt him –

Stop.

Take a breath.

And close your god damn mouth.

You're here.

"What time is it?"

"Uh," he checked his clock. "About seven thirty."

He looked back to me. "You wanna shower or something?"

"That'd be nice."

"I don't think we have time to throw your clothes in the washer. You can borrow some of mine if you want . . ."

I fingered the hem of his Mickey Mouse shirt.

Oh my God.

I'd slept in his clothes.

Did I smell like him now?

"Sure. That's great. Okay." I said.

He yawned and turned his head into the pillow.

I stared.

Trying to figure out, in this morning bleariness, how I'd got here. When I'd given in exactly. And how he was real.

A glimmer of sun light filtered in from a little part in the curtains, making his hair look like fire.

Pure red and cinnamon-y.

The tendons in his neck stuck out. And I hadn't noticed, but at some point in the night, he'd shrugged out of his shirt.

His shoulder blades, his arms, the only things not covered by the blankets . . . Fuck.

Muscular, but not really ripped either. The skin was paler along the tops of his arms too. A slight T- shirt tan. And a little circle of freckles on his bicep.

I wanted to trace it with my finger.

With my tongue.

Crap.

Damnitt.

I was . . .

Ugh.

Mother of . . . someone . . .

He was gorgeous.

Hot.

And I . . .

Ugh.

I needed coffee. And a cigarette.

"So, I'm just gonna . . . go shower."

His head lifted.

He'd heard the tremor in my voice.

He looked at me hard for a moment.

"You okay?"

"Course." I choked.

His lips pursed.

But he let it go.

I threw back the covers and touched my feet to the floor. Squishy, welcoming carpet sunk between my toes.

Hello carpet.

Can I join you down there?

I turned and he was standing too, his hand at his the back of his head.

Facing me.

Naked from the torso up.

My teeth ground against each other and I averted my eyes.

Anywhere but him.

Any thought but how absolutely beautiful he was . . .

"So, the shirts are in the top drawer and the jeans are . . . on the floor." He bent and grabbed a couple pairs.

"But I'm pretty sure these are clean. These pair are for sure. So, um. You know. Do me a favor and just don't go through my underwear."

He grinned lopsidedly.

Trying to coax me away from whatever corner I'd just backed into.

Just, give me a moment.

This shower time.

Be there when I get back, though, please.

I'm not running just yet.

"Okay. Shirts, bottoms . . . undergarments?"

We both blushed, and I got the feeling he didn't have a lot of sleepovers like this.

"Well, you have those boxers I gave you and, um, your bra should be dry if we just throw in the dryer. Or I could ask my sister if you –"

"No," My cheeks were blazing. "That's fine. I'll just, yeah. Um. The dryer." I stuttered.

I shuffled toward the door.

Stupid.

Idiot.

You just suck Bella.

"I'll leave them here then. Uh. Come down to the kitchen when you're through. For breakfast."

Door, door, door.

C'mon door. Why the hell are you so far away?

Despite myself, I risked a glance behind me.

He was standing with his back to me, his hands stuck in his hair. All tense and . . .

I had to go.

I made my way to the bathroom.

Damnitt.

Now I just wanted to go back.

The house was different in the morning. Lighter, of course, but for some reason that surprised me. The way the sun caught the dust in the air and the varying shades of red in one of the paintings on the wall. Clear. No walls.

There were no secrets in this house.

Well.

There was me.

But I'd be gone soon enough any –

No.

Stop.

You're here.

One of the roses in the vase had wilted a little.

The hot water felt like heaven. Slicing through everything and dusting out all the cobwebs. I reached for the shampoo and poured a little more then I should have into my palm. I brought it to my nose and took a whiff.

And giggled.

Citrus. Maybe a little apple.

I shook my head and scrubbed it through my hair.

A rinse and some conditioner later I was clean and apple-y smelling. I towel dried my hair and wrapped it around my body.

He'd left the clothes on his bed, like he'd said.

His boxers, his jeans, his shirt . . . my bra. Everything was giant on me. The shirt came down to my knees and the jeans dragged and didn't stay up. But they were clothes. And I'd live.

I threw my hair in a bun and examined myself in his mirror.

Yikes.

I looked like a hobo.

Eh.

But seeing myself there, reflected. Looking messy and skinny in his clothes.

I'd slept at his house.

This was the end of the fight.

Yeah.

It was.

Just, the circles under my eyes seemed to contradict all that.

Seeming to say; no, we still have a ways to go honey.

But I'd deal with that later.

Today was me and him.

Him and me.

Me and him and I and him and me and him.

If we could only get past this awkwardness.

No, my hesitance.

Our hesitance.

I didn't know how to act around him. For me, it was the first time around in this friendship. It was just like falling back into step with him.

How many times had he seen me cry?

Seen me in a swim suit or listened to me sing?

I wanted to know.

I wanted to know.

The curiosity was eating at me, chewing up my insides suddenly.

Tell me everything Edward.

I took a deep breath and went downstairs.

I ran my hand along the banister as I ascended the stairs. Strained my ears so I could hear into the kitchen.

And then I stopped.

Because right there, to the right, next to a set of French doors, was a piano.

Huge.

Terrifying.

Cherry black.

And Bella, wait, remember, he learned to play for you.

And you just left.

You hurt him.

You hurt everyone and –

"Bella?"

My head snapped around.

"Bella!"

I stared at her.

This little, beautiful girl with the inky hair.

Alice.

Alice.

Alice.

Alice was Edward's sister.

And even though I already knew that it just . . . blew me away.

When I was eight she gave me a Barbie for my birthday. She was the first girl to start carrying a purse. She wanted to be a photographer. Her eleventh birthday party was held at a hotel.

Alice.

"When did you dye your hair?" I blurted.

Her eyebrows furrowed together.

I'd almost forgotten about the bathroom incident. How I turned her away.

Fuck.

You can't have everything, Bella, you moron. And just because you remember a little now doesn't make it suddenly okay for you to waltz back into their lives.

I watched her from the stairs.

She was wearing white skinny jeans and pink cowboy boots. A big clunky necklace and a colorful tunic, tied tight around her tiny waist with a belt.

I'd forgotten how ridiculous she always dressed.

Her green eyes found mine and held them.

Her brow smoothed over.

"Ninth grade. I was fourteen."

"It's nice." I commented.

"Really? You sure you don't miss the red?"

"I – I don't know." Which was true. I could barely remember it. "Do you?"

She snorted.

"No. Looking like Edward is freaky. Now, come eat breakfast. We have cereal and poptarts and waffles and toast and – What in God's name are you wearing?"

Edward's laugh rang from the other room.

Alice looked me up and down, her mouth open in a little "o" of horror. "That is just, just wrong. You are not wearing my brother's clothes. I swear to God Bella, you haven't changed one bit."

She shook her head. "Come with me. I am not letting you walk out my door like that."

"What? No, no, really. It's fine. I'm fine."

"But I'm not. In fact, I think I'm about to have a stroke. Ugh. I will not be seen with you if you look like, like some sort of hobo."

Her face contorted and she danced over to me, grabbing my hand.

"Alice –"

"You're changing. And that's final."

We went back up the stairs and to the right. She opened a door and pulled me through.

Alice's room was different then her brother's.

Cluttered too, but distinctly more girly, with magazines and hair scrunchies thrown everywhere. Her bed was a canopy, purple with matching pillow cases.

She walked to her closet and pulled the doors open.

Her hands went to her hips.

"Okay. You're like a two right?"

"Uh, yeah. But I usually wear a four because it's more comfortable. Looser."

"Well twos the only size I have. So be prepared to show off those legs." She grinned and quirked an eyebrow at me. "C'mon hot stuff. We gotta make you sexy."

I scowled. "Seriously. You don't have to do this. It really doesn't matter to me."

She faced her closet again. "Ah, but it does matter to me. So I take it you like dark colors, hmm? We'll go for a chic-grunge look then?"

I sighed. "Sure."

She pulled out a dark pair of jeans.

"And, oh, I have this gorgeous yellow blouse. Vintage, with these cap sleeves – but, eh, Fridays aren't really yellow days."

"Course they aren't."

"Don't be smart."

She rummaged through her clothes for a few more minutes, commenting on this and that. I wandered around, examining her stereo and the plush chairs in the corner.

"So, I've noticed you've been hanging with Jessica Stanley?"

"Who? Oh, yeah."

Alice giggled.

"What's it like?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know what I mean. What's it like?"

"Uh. Boring?"

She made an exasperated noise. "C'mon Bell, give me real answers. Answers with more than one word. Answers with all the_ juicy_ details."

"You watch MTV a lot, don't you?"

She laughed. "Anyway, Jessica."

I took a seat on her bed. "She talks a lot. About everything. And nothing. And she drags me to the bathroom at least five times a day to re-touch her makeup and catch up with Lauren."

"Ah. Lauren. Queen of Forks High." She shook her head. "Really, I pity her."

Suddenly, Alice gasped.

"Bella. Oh my God. I totally forgot about this!"

I turned around.

She was smiling brilliantly, holding a red sweater dress to her chest. It buttoned up the front, with a V neck line.

"Isn't it pretty? And over the jeans, with some boots – perfect! But what do you think? Yes? No?"

I shrugged. "It is really nice." And t hen, just because she was so Alice and so into making me look nice, I smiled. "Sure."

She squealed and went back into her closet. "Okay, one more thing. Do you like lace up boots or buckles?"

I paused. "No. Alice. No. I'm wearing my own shoes."

She turned around to pout.

I held steady.

"Fine. Doc Martens work. Go dress. I'll meet you down stairs."

With that, she pranced out of the room.

For the second time that day, I changed clothes.

But this time, at least, they fit me. The dress was thin but soft against my skin and the jeans were clung like a second skin . . . but I looked good. I nodded at myself and took a breath.

Alice was waiting.

And so was Edward.

Edward.

They were talking in the kitchen when I came in. Alice was nibbling on a waffle by the fridge and Edward leaned against the counter, scowling.

"No, Al, it's not like she remembers everything, you can't just invite them –"

"Ugh, whatever Edward." She threw her hands up in the air. "You're such a worrywart. Bella!"

He turned to look at me and I met his eyes for a second.

"Hi."

"Bella!" Alice squealed. "See, isn't the dress hot?"

"Yeah, I like it. Um, so breakfast?"

"Wait. Come here."

No point in arguing. I walked to the fridge to stand in front of her.

She looked me up and down.

Then he eyes locked on the knot my hair was tangled in.

Her hand shot to my head and she ripped the scrunchie from my hair.

"Ow!"

"Shhh. Ah. That's better. You look fantastic. Now go eat something. You're too damn skinny. Now, I'm off to throw out your cigarettes."

"What?"

But she was out the door before I could say anything more.

I ran a hand over my head, rubbing the nape of my neck where a few hairs had been yanked out. "Ow," I said again.

Edward laughed softly.

I looked over at him.

And just looked at him.

His hoodie had these little holes on the ends of the sleeves where his thumbs had worn through. His jeans were faded and ripped. Old. I wondered how long he had them.

I wondered a lot of things about him.

Like when his birthday was or why he went through with his promise to learn to play the piano for me. Did we ever do the talent show?

A hand ran through his hair.

He still looked sleepy.

"It snowed last night."

I blinked. "What?"

He smirked and jabbed a finger toward the window.

White, white, a sea of white blanketed his backyard.

You could get lost in it.

"Oh. Wow." I breathed.

"Yeah. It must have started a little while after you came in. There's like two feet of it. A blizzard, practically. You didn't notice the cold when you were out on your bike?"

I shook my head, still staring out the window.

"Bell?"

That nickname again.

I turned to face him.

He was closer than before, grinning a little.

"You don't remember snow, do you?"

I blushed.

"Of course I . . . don't."

He grinned wider and then sighed, suddenly sort of sad. "Hurry up and eat. We'll be late."

I grabbed an apple from his fruit bowl and bit down.

"What's your favorite fruit?" I asked.

"Pineapples." He answered, not missing a beat.

I snorted. "Seriously?"

He hopped up on the counter. "What's wrong with pineapples?"

"Nothing. Just, you don't seem like a pineapple kinda guy."

"You don't seem like a fig type of girl either."

"I liked figs before too?"

"You've always liked figs." Alice chirped, skipping back into the kitchen with my cigarettes in hand. "When you were five you shoved one down my throat, insisting I'd love it. I didn't. Then I puked and called you an ass. I got spanked and didn't speak to you for a week."

I laughed. "Sorry Alice."

Alice strode to the sink and upturned the pack.

"Hey - What the fuck are you doing?"

"Hmmm?" She looked to me. "Oh, nothing. Just purifying the world and saving my friend from cancer."

She flicked a switch.

A loud, grinding noise tore through the room.

"NO!" I screeched. I raced to the sink, shoving Alice out of the way and flicking the switch back.

All the cigarettes were gone but for a few measly pieces of white paper.

Just, obliterated.

Nine bucks literally down the drain.

I stared down at the sink.

Horrified.

Disbelieving.

"You . . . you . . . you destroyed them. You're evil. You massacred my cigarettes." I whimpered.

Alice shrugged and blew on her nails. "Well you know. Garbage disposals do have their perks."

And this was when I knew that I'd never be able to forget the Cullens ever again.

* * *

Seriously. Alice just fed Bella's cigarettes to the god damn garbage disposal (and I am fucking scared of that thing).

I think that deserves some reviews man.


	9. Chapter 8

sorry to those of you that i told this chapter would be up last night. i got tired . . .

uh . . . yeah . . . some people asked how B's Docs appeared out of thin air . . . well . . . use your imaginations.

**DON'T OWN.**

* * *

I figured I should call Charlie to tell him where I was, and that, no, I hadn't caught a plane back to Phoenix or anything.

Luckily for me, he waved my impromptu sleepover off. "As long as you're not hurt or doing drugs," he said.

One thing I'd learned after two weeks of living with Charlie; he didn't hover. In fact, he barely knew how to talk to me. But that worked for us. He ignored my breakdowns and teen dramatics, and I didn't comment on all the beer in his fridge.

We were perfect housemates.

Once I'd hung up Edward and Alice dragged me out to their car.

I took a moment to appreciate the lawn.

I hadn't noticed before, when I was coming in.

It was beautiful. Tons of foliage and little flowers, even in the winter.

Covered by white fluff and this giant, sad weepy looking willow to the right.

I turned toward the driveway, the massive driveway, where my companions were already waiting by a -

I stopped walking.

A shiny Volvo.

Pristine.

Silver.

Expensive.

My nose wrinkled.

"What?" Edward asked.

"Um, nothing."

"No. Really." He slid into the driver's seat. Alice hopped into the back and I guessed this meant I was shotgun.

I fiddled with the hem of my sweater-dress-thing, settling into the leather. The real, nice smelling kind. "Your car's so . . . new."

You must be so . . . rich.

He chuckled and stuck his keys in the ignition. "And?"

"I don't like it?" I offered.

"What?" He scowled at me. "How can you not – it's a Volvo for Christ's sake – and look at your rusty excuse for a -"

He looked away and breathed heavily. "You're absurd."

"Because I don't like you're car?"

"No. Yes. Shut up."

Alice giggled. Her thin arms appeared between us, an elbow resting on each of our headrests.

She stared at me, smiling.

Just . . . smiling.

Big and wide and white.

I noticed how small her teeth were.

Tiny, little baby teeth.

She giggled again. "God, I missed you."

And I had missed her too. Without even realizing it.

I grinned and Edward turned on the radio.

Alice squirmed in the back seat, shrieking "I love this song!"

I laughed at her but started to hum along anyway, and Edward just shook his head.

He caught my eye at a red light.

I smiled.

And his lips quirked smartly and his eyes got all warm and fuzzy like.

And I just – couldn't possibly see how any of this could ever be so harmful.

* * *

Frizz found me at my locker, after Alice and Edward had vacated the premises.

"Were you just talking to _Alice Cullen?_"

I grabbed a textbook and shoved it in my bag. "No. Alice Cooper."

"Who?"

"Never mind."

She tucked a piece of fluffy hair behind her ear. "You really shouldn't talk to her. She's just . . . like, weird. Rosalie Hale too. Get this. Freshman year, Rosalie was so popular – like, everyone knew her and she was on the cheerleader squad and she threw this one party that these _seniors_ even went to - she got nominated for Prom Queen. A freshman! And she _turned it down._"

Frizz made a face and shook her head, and then looked at me expectantly.

Reaction: "That's horrible."

I reached for my Biology notebook.

"I know! How ungrateful can you get, right?"

I slammed my locker shut.

Shut up.

Just, shut up.

Stop flinging your stupid high school shit at my friends that I can't even remember altogether.

"And then Lauren was talking about this girl she remembered going to our middle school and how like, weird she was. I can't remember her name but she was always reading and she had these rings and these freaky black shoes. She was way creepy. So, Rosalie was there and she just sort of snapped. She started screaming at Lauren all this mean stuff about how she wasn't better than everyone else and she couldn't go making fun of everyone – totally stupid."

Frizz sighed. "She went all emo after that. She didn't talk to anyone except the Cullens and these other two guys and she quit the cheer squad. A pity." She sighed again. "But she was never very pretty anyway."

I stared at the tile floor.

Rosalie Hale.

Rosalie.

Rose.

Rose with the long hair and the swirly eyes and of _course_ she was beautiful.

How could Frizz – but Frizz _was_ Frizz – but still, how could everyone just not see how very beyond pretty she was?

Did me leaving, me forgetting – did that really . . . ?

I hadn't realized, thought of that -

Cause, oh God, if it did –

I swear I'd just punch them all for being so sad.

I couldn't have them sad.

It was just not allowed.

And if I stayed . . .

Was me staying making it alright again?

I glanced at the clock.

Eight forty five and I already need an Aspirin.

And I also needed to talk to Rose.

Straighten all this shit out.

The warning bell rang.

Frizz grabbed my hand. "Anyway, there was this party over the weekend and Mike did this totally adorable thing . . ."

I tuned the mental radio to a different channel.

* * *

I swear to God, this day was going by in slow fucking motion.

Third period.

English.

And I was bored out of my mind.

Lunch, lunch, lunch, lunch, lunch, just give me lunch.

Had I really only been at this school for a week?

Cause it felt so, so much longer.

And it made sense that it would.

With everything that had happened.

With Edward.

And Alice and Rose.

And the memories.

I should really tell Charlie about that.

Frizz threw a note onto my desk.

I drew a unicorn on it and threw it back.

She looked up at me, confused.

I had to bite back a laugh.

Fucking Frizz.

I reached for my bag and pulled out my book.

Catcher in the Rye.

I'd read it a million times and it was old and falling apart, but still.

Holden Caulfield was sexy.

I was just up to the part where Holden's on the train and telling Mrs. Morrow about his 'brain tumor' when the door banged open.

The whole class turned in their seats.

I turned with the rest of them but unlike them, I let out a squeak, my mouth dropping open.

Hitting the floor.

Crashing through the foundation.

"Mr. Cullen, what can we help you with?" Mr. …. Whatever the fuck his name was narrowed his eyes.

Edward leaned against the door frame, smiling innocently. "The principal asked me to bring Bella to his office. He said it was very, _very_ important. "

Teacher's lips pursed and he looked Edward over, deciding whether or not to trust him.

Edward saw it too.

"It's about her father. The _Chief_."

My jaw straightened.

Asshole.

Teacher's eyes widened.

"Oh, no. Please, go ahead."

Teacher put a hand to his heart.

God forbid something happen to the Fork's police force.

I grabbed my bag and book and maneuvered down the aisle.

Edward smirked and took my hand (do I still have to mention the tingles, shocks, electricity sparking sparking sparking everywhere I've ever felt cold or dead or just not there and reviving long gone smiles and laughs I had just completely, totally forgotten about? ), pulling me out the door.

My feet tangled and I tripped into his chest.

He caught my wrist, grinning down at me.

Green -

**THUD**

Green -

**THUD**

I scowled. "Ass. Seriously, my dad? How low can you get?"

"Shut up. You know you're thankful I busted you out of class."

"Who said I wasn't deeply engrossed in Mr. Whatever's lecture?"

"You don't even know his name –"

"I've got a bad memory."

"Probably right, since you've been rereading that damn book since fucking fifth grade."

I held it up.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Really. God Bell, get with the program. You're not that unpredictable."

"Hey!"

"Did I mention you look really hot today?"

"Wait, what?"

But he was already loping down the hallway.

I jogged to catch up with him.

"So, where are we going?"

"California."

"Sun bathing and umbrella straws?"

"Definitely."

"Eh. Sorry. I don't do either. Now, I demand to know our destination."

"My car." He grinned at me again.

"Uh . . . okay?"

He rolled his eyes and pushed a stair well door open for me. "It's Friday. We always skip third period on Friday. Now, since you're a rookie, I helped you out this time. But next week – you're on your own."

"Um, thanks?"

"You're welcome. And can you hurry up? You're so slow."

"Oh! Well, excuse me Mr. I'm so fast and better then everyone –"

I slammed into his back.

The fucker had stopped walking.

He turned around and I had just enough time to catch this evil, mischievous, adorable glint in his green, green, green eyes before he grabbed me around the waist and –

Fuck.

No.

"Not again!" I screeched, but it was too late.

I was already on his back.

He started moving again.

"Dick," I muttered. "I'll scream, I swear I will. And then someone will come running and I'll say you tried to rape me and you'll get suspended -"

"Whoopie, an extra school break."

"Shut up. You're such a bastard, you know that? Stupid, annoying Volvo and you know I saw this old box of pizza under your bed? It must have been there for weeks. That's just disgusting. Revolting."

He chuckled and I tugged on his hair.

Which only made him laugh more.

"Edward! I'm serious! That's not fucking healthy-"

"I am too healthy. I haven't been sick since eighth grade."

"Yeah. Right."I said. "Boys are just unbelievable."

"Boys," he scoffed. "I am not a boy."

"Yeah, you're right. You aren't."

He pushed open the front doors, carrying me out into the parking lot. "Be quiet."

"Only if you have my cigarettes."

His shoulders slumped a bit and he didn't answer.

"What?"

He sighed.

I groaned. "No, not you too!"

"No, Bell. It's not – I know that – I do wish you didn't smoke-"

"You smoke too." I pointed out.

"But I'm a hypocrite. Just, I won't be on your case about it. But I am gonna get you off that shit eventually."

I sighed, leaning my cheek against his hair.

It was soft and nice and it tickled my chin.

"Yeah. Okay. I know it's bad. I can't even remember how I started anymore. No, yeah I do. It was cold and I was sad and living on the streets."

He stopped walking altogether.

"Edward-"

He slung me off his back and pushed me against the side of the school.

"What are –"

His hands slammed against the brick on either side of my head and he just glared at me with these dark eyes.

"Tell me," he ordered. Low and rough.

"Edward I –"

"Tell me," he growled.

"It's – It's nothing. I, it was a few years ago and I was sixteen and stupid and depressed and I just couldn't stand living with Cal anymore. He's my mom's brother, and he kept all these pictures of her around the house – of me too, when I was little, curled in her arms and on this water slide. And I couldn't remember it. Not anything. And school sucked and I lost my favorite T-shirt and one day I just – I just had to get out."

I didn't meet his eyes.

Just stared at the road beyond.

And whispered secrets I barely knew myself.

"I was hurting them. Cal, Charlie when he wrote. And I thought that maybe if I went away, away from everything, it would be okay. I wouldn't hurt them. Cal wouldn't have to look at the niece who reminded him of his dead sister every day, and Charlie'd be able to . . . start over. I just knew it was better, me gone. I just – I felt like I was being smothered with everything and all the nothings that I knew. So I went and I slept in shelters and on park benches and eventually, all my money was gone and this guy, he offered me a smoke. And I just took it. I choked on the smoke but finished four anyway. Then I threw up. But he kept offering and I kept taking them."

I bit my lip. "The way I saw it, I had nothing to lose. And if something was lost . . . it just didn't matter anyway."

_I just didn't matte anyway._

_Cause being gone was alright, as long as I wasn't hurting anyone._

"Bell." He murmured.

"Bell," his hand touched my face.

My eyes stung.

He jerked me forward, gripping my face with both hands and this time I had to look at him.

I gasped and his eyes burned and ignited and he looked _so sad_.

"It always matters." He snarled.

"Do you hear me?" He shook me and I just stood there.

"Jesus, Bell – you, hurting them? Do you honestly think – well, of course you think that."

He removed one of his hands and covered his eyes.

His shoulders shook once.

"You can't see anything clearly. You really think you hurt people, don't you? That you hurt everyone. What happened to you? God, what's happened to you baby. You're just completely deluded now. Completely messed up." He whispered.

Deluded?

Messed up?

What?

I watched him shake and shudder.

So I was just – was he just hanging around to see what had become of his pathetic old friend? Was that it? Was that why he'd stuck around?

Because –

Ah fuck.

Yes.

I shoved him away.

Idiot.

Moron.

And it's ironic, isn't it?

How you're the one getting hurt in the end.

His head shot up and he caught my eye.

"What?" He said. "Bell? What?"

He took a step closer and peered at my face.

His eyes widened. "You're . . . crying? Oh, Jesus, Bell, don't do this! Not again."

I turned into the wall.

God, just don't talk to me anymore.

If I was just this experiment.

If I was just another nothing.

"Look at me!" He pulled me to him and glared down at me. "Stop with this shit! I didn't mean whatever you think I meant!"

Yes.

You did.

You hurt me.

And before long, I'll hurt you.

Cause that's what this is, isn't it?

A circle of hurt, hurt, pain, more, never ending hurt.

Me staying is not making it alright.

Nothing can ever be alright.

My teeth dug into my lower lip and looked at his nose.

"Baby. Please. You could never hurt anyone. Do you hear me? Bell?"

My eyes shut tight.

But don't you see?

I already have.

"Mom . . ." I whimpered.

He froze and my eyes opened.

He stared at me.

"You – don't you dare- you have nothing to do with any of that."

"I have – I have to go."

"No."

I couldn't meet his eyes.

"No."

My hands trembled as I pushed against his chest.

He shook me and pressed his forehead into mine.

I choked on the tears.

His eyes . . . Green.

Haunted and nearly black and everything I've ever wanted, right?

"Why?"

"I can't – I can't hurt anyone else."

"You won't if you just stay with me."

"God, no, I just can't –"

"Stop saying that! You can, you can Bell! She's dead, but you and I are alive and this is what you have to focus on! Not her, not the past!"

"Christ! Just stop, stop. It's too much!"

"Then you stop being so difficult! Stop – stop being you, just for one fucking second, just stop being Bella so I can fix this!"

"You can't fix it! You can't! It's over and it's broken beyond repair and it's never coming back and it's never going to be what it would have been!"

He stumbled back and away from me and his head fell into his hands and he just stood there.

So still it was scary.

And I just wanted to go to him but I was damaged and he was lost and losing this race and we were just fatal together.

We'd killed our future.

And our past was ripped to shreds.

And I knew this was it and 'us' was, before it even realized it was there – over.

I'd die overdosing on prescription antidepressant pills and he'd grow up and find an obscure, desk and cubicle office job.

He'd get old and sad and I'd rot in my grave some more.

It didn't matter that he'd given me a purple elephant for my seventh birthday and that'd he'd been the only boy I'd ever kissed, and that the first song he learned how to play on his piano was fucking Heart and Soul.

It didn't matter that he always made my sandwich with extra lettuce just to annoy me and it didn't matter that he'd felt me up when I was thirteen and that he never even tried to apologize because he was just too smug and that his second toe was longer then the first and he liked the color red because it reminded him of candy apples and the time he stuck one in Mike Newton's hair on a dare.

That'd we'd actually gotten drunk together a lot more than once and that'd we'd watch Friends reruns and John Hugh movies together till four in the morning and he'd took me to Medieval Times once and we harassed the knights and that when I was five, I wanted to be a scientist.

It didn't matter.

Because we weren't going.

_We were over._

* * *

i cried writing this.

seriously. i think it's impossible for me not to write anything sad. but, it'll get better. i think. eh. this story is more character then plot driven so i'm never really in control. XD

so. my forty two alerts . . . you know what to do. ;)


	10. Chapter 9

this chapter took me a little while. don't know why. it just did. eh.

so it's sort of short too. and there's a lot of B's inner hating and shit, but i think we're all used to that by now. XD

also. tenth chapter is nearly done. so, if you want it up sooner, you'll have to **BEG**. hah. there you go. see how well you guys can do.

**DON'T OWN.**

* * *

His eyes burned into mine. And I knew I shouldn't, I knew it was stupid and silly and that I just shouldn't, but I stared back.

In those few seconds, I memorized those eyes.

Cause they were everything I had.

But had is past tense.

And so I could never have those eyes, that face, that person.

And how can you even have a person? You can't. It's ridiculous. A person can't be someone else's like that. But that's what we were. I was his. He was mine.

There goes that past tense again.

God, Edward . . .

And I swear to fucking God - he was _crying_. That quiet cry that guys always cry.

We stared.

And the tension grew.

And I had to break us.

With one deep, sharp breath, I turned around and stumbled toward my truck.

And then he wasn't there. Gone from my line of sight. Gone from me. Something struck my heart. So hard it nearly knocked me over.

Because this hurt.

Fuck this hurt.

I wanted him to run after me. To grab my hand and pull me back to him and never fucking let me go.

God Edward, do it.

Don't let us die.

But we were dead already and necromancy was for dark fairy tales and not dark realities.

I weaved between the cars. My foot caught on a crack in the pavement and the ground came rushing up too fast.

And all that shit about being numb –

For shit.

If anything, this pain magnified everything else.

My knee hurt like the blazes and I could smell the blood.

I just got back up and trekked on.

Work it, you failure soldier.

"Bella!"

My name cut through the air like a knife.

My head jerked to the side and –

Christ no.

All of them.

Alice, Rose.

And the next two, even after five crucial years, I would know anywhere.

Em (cheated at Monopole, had a thing for circles and a dislike for squares, loved bears, played Halo, wanted to join the army when he was seven until he realized what fun motorcycles were).

And Jazz (closest pervert, liked raspberry soda and British bands from the 90s, suave as ever except in the presence of Alice the Cullen, enjoyed bass guitar and the occasional pat on his over grown surfer hair).

Just keep going Bella.

Get out of there.

It's dangerous.

And then Emmett opened his big mouth: "Holy shitsticks! Bell-a-boo!"

I wanted to laugh.

But I only started crying.

I didn't belong.

I complicate and dislodge and turn over and break everything.

My family.

Mom.

Rose.

_Edward._

I couldn't let more hurt happen.

I reached my truck and fumbled with the keys.

Jingle, jangle, jingle bell rock.

We'd sung that at one of our massive sleep overs once, with these ridiculous dance moves . . .

And these memories, these scenes and him and I and her, came too fast, too soon, knocking me over and out before I even realized what they were.

That they were here and back and this loss was almost, nearly made up.

But almost wasn't enough.

I was just a nothing, after all.

They were better off without me.

I slid into the driver's seat and slammed the key into the ignition.

The car lurched backwards and I _needed to get out._

"Bella?!" A chorus of voices, concerned, familiar voices that would never see me the same again, that would always be hurt, that were all doomed for the same fate.

I caught sight of them as I pulled out.

They stood by the Volvo. They. As in, all five of them. Alice and Emmett and Jasper and Rose and _Edward._

My fucking beautiful and insane extended family and Jesus, Alice was crying again.

I swung out of the parking lot.

Onto the highway and anywhere, anywhere but here.

My chest was wound tight.

The truck wheezed and gurgled but I kept pushing it.

Roads passed under the tires and trees were all a blur of green and blue and pineapple and nail polish and Christ I was sobbing.

My vision blurred and I swiped at my eyes, trying to focus focus focus on the road road road.

My hands shook around the wheel and I kept muttering and whispering and where was the justice in any of this?

I didn't realize where I was going until it was already too late.

First Beach.

Bonfires, cookouts, Billy Black and Jasper's lion beach towel.

I hopped out and stumbled down the sand.

It smelled like salt. And piss. And there were beer cans strewn about.

The huge, gray waves crashing against the sand with these massive black rocks sticking out around them.

Halfway down the beach I slipped off my shoes.

When I reached where the water broke, I rolled up the jeans (Alice's jeans, and Alice's dress and how did I not know that it wasn't Alice who showed me Catcher in the Rye?) and kept on going.

The water froze my bony ankles and my toes went instantly numb (and how did I not know that it wasn't Jazz who turned me onto the Docs?).

My eyes squeezed shut against the setting sun.

An early sunset. A winter sunset. The snow had already melted here. I threw my coat into the dry sand and stepped further into the water.

It licked my calves.

And if there was only hurt and pain, then why were we even still here?

Why do we stick around?

God, I didn't want to think about it.

I didn't want to think, period.

I sank down to my knees, the water crashing against my shirt.

My shaking palms pushed into the submerged shells and bits of rock and I swam out further, till the water was past my waist.

To where there were no thoughts, no pre-determined outcomes, no you and past and me.

I floated on my back, staring up at the gray-slightly-pink clouds. I was cold all around. And I was wet and it was getting darker by the second, but maybe, maybe if I just stayed here long enough, I wouldn't have to go back. They'd forget about me. And I'd just be able to stay here, burrowed and hidden away from the what-ifs and the hurt and the bad things. Maybe this one sad, peaceful moment would last.

Fuck.

In the words of the great Pixies, Where is my mind?

Swimming, Damnitt.

And where's your life Bella?

Running away from you as you just lie here moping. And that's all you do, all day, every day. Mope and do nothing.

And while you're doing nothing, everyone's hurting around you. And then you're getting hurt cause you refuse to take action in your own fucking life and Christ, I'm a fucking mess just like he said.

I wasn't floating anymore.

I was shivering and splashing and angry and a fucking mess.

See Edward, I'm agreeing with you?

I'm a fuck up.

Oh, God, Edward.

Can't I redo it?

Please, please tell me I can. Tell me it was just a dream and the real thing is tomorrow.

And that tomorrow I can make it better.

I can be enough and not fuck up.

I can make you happy and we can make cookies from the god damn box.

The waves were choppy and rough and everywhere. They beat against my back and suddenly pushed me under. I felt the current tug under me and I fought it, treading on the surface.

I caught the first stars coming out.

Just keep staring, looking, hoping Bella.

But you'll never have it.

I choked on my tongue and the water dragged me under again.

And God damn it, am I seriously drowning now?

Honestly?

Apparently yes, since my lungs are burning.

God.

Fuck.

How _funny_.

And my chest burst open, unwinding and spewing tears that were lost in the ocean.

It was over.

Over.

Over.

Over.

I was spinning and my head hurt. The water pressed from all sides and I couldn't see anything through the gloom.

And now, at the end, I could admit how utterly pathetic my life was.

I just wasted it all, didn't I?

We just ruined it.

So bitter, so stupid. Why? Cause, at some point, even for just a little while, we had it all. And we just didn't hold tight enough.

Too late now.

Too late for anything.

It, he, them, it's all over.

No more pain.

No more.

No more.

No more.

I'd rather have it then nothing.

The world got faint and everything was fading fading fading into darkness . . .

And I swear I heard him laugh.

_I'm begging you; just one more chance._

* * *

is she dead? is she hurt? is she somewhat sick in the head?

i know. review and maybe you'll know too. XD

also: check out Muse's "Hyper Music". sick song.

gotta jet rat suckers. later.


	11. Chapter 10

hey y'all. sos bout the lack of updates. i went to all these holiday parties and i had my b-day (woot) and i just had to SLEEP. so those are my excuses. xD i also got an iPod. finally. i've been using my walkman for years and it's skipping and crappy and ugly. thank the lord for Apple.

just a quick thing i've noticed over the past few weeks; aren't there a shit load of lesbain/character stories? i mean, really. i keep noticing all this girl on girl smut and all these Em and Rose and Ali and Jazz fics. hmmm . . . well, i'm glad. but seriously. i missed good Edward stuff. X( plus, i think vamps have virtually disappeared. i guess we all suddenly hate topaz? eh.

and guys? can we please break 100 reviews? please? pretty please with dollops of Edward (or Alice, if that's what floats your boat) and happy on top (that's right, this one's happy . . . sort of)?

sigh. fine. just read it. **Don't** _Own_ **Rat** _Suckers_.

* * *

I felt like shit.

Tired, uncomfortable, cold, wet, _shit_.

Groaning, I pushed up onto my elbows; my arms gave out and my mouth kissed a shell.

Shell, sand in my finger nails, water licking my toes.

A beach.

Why was I on a fucking beach?

And where were my shoes?

Damnitt.

If I'd lost those Docs . . .

Christ.

That would suck.

I'd spent a good six or so years breaking those things in, wearing them down to perfection. All those year wasted . . .

I tried to get up again. I only succeeded in maneuvering into a sitting position.

I stared out at the dark waves, stretching out an arm.

I winched.

That _hurt._

I tested the other arm, and then my legs.

Jesus. What had I been doing? My limbs felt like balloons. And I _ached_, like my muscles had been slashed and ripped open. Worked to death and then whipped back to life. I'd need pain-relievers galore come my arrival home.

I bit my thumb nail and looked back to the ocean.

I wondered how long it would take until the nail would give out and break between my teeth.

I had such weak, brittle nails. Alice always says I should use nail hardener instead of the cheap polish, but –

I stumbled to my feet.

_Alice always says –_

And charged down the beach. Sand flew up around me and the beach kinda spun but I couldn't stop.

_Nail hardener –_

I spotted my shoes and slipped my feet into the worn leather.

_No Ali, this polish works fine._

Now I remembered.

Today.

Yesterday.

_But it's like two dollars!_

Five fucking years ago.

_Who was it that __**ruined**__ this?_

The sand was slippery under my shoes and I couldn't get my footing. But this, this red and this night all around me and where the fuck was the happy ending from when I was seven and eight and simple?

My feet hit the pavement and directed me past my truck.

Pound, pound, pound, and my feet kept hitting the cement in this steady, irregular rhythm. I ran so hard I felt it rattle my bones, so hard the heels of my feet throbbed every time they struck down. It was so dark I could barely make out my own hands but somehow, I kept to the road. And I was panting hard and fast, cause let's face it, as bony-skinny as I was, I was just not in shape.

No one was ever in shape, with their offices and paper work. With their secret porn subscriptions and side girlfriends.

I ran harder.

Faster.

Always, always, never my worst and always my best but never enough.

And where was I going?

Running down a dark highway, miles and miles from home?

Charlie was probably worried – well, no of course not. Charlie didn't hover.

But what was I doing?

God, this life, me, because I was me and totally fucking up this only (no, moron, idiot, you shit, second chance, so grasp it and don't do what you think is right) chance.

I was not some silent bystander. I was the main player at this table.

And shit.

Just draw already.

And if I sat like this, idle and motionless?

Then I'd stay this nothing.

I'd die a nothing.

I'd die.

I'm dying.

I'm _panicking_.

I slipped on the pavement and fell onto the grass. Green stains on the knees of Alice's stiff, sandy jeans.

My breath was harsh and hurt my throat.

It started to rain. I let the drops fall and soak me. I let the world pass me by and leave me wet and shriveled.

And I just cried.

So long overdue.

I sobbed and jerked and kinda died a little bit with every heavy tear.

"God, this redo. My second chance. Thank you, thank you, but I know I'll screw it up, and then it'll be ruined just like everything else. How do I make it alright? How! Fuck, just how do I do this?!"

My fingers fisted in the dirt.

How?

It's over now.

So how do I do this? How do I live?

I go to him.

And I get closure.

And then I run.

I nearly coughed up a lung I choked so hard.

"I don't, I don't think I can run like this much longer. I think, I think, there needs to be – God, please let me be right cause I can't do this anymore- there needs to be another way, where I and him, we can, we –"

Speech fled the premises and left me with only broken sobs.

And God help me –

I was terrified.

* * *

After the water works stopped, I caught a ride home with a young housewife with dyed hair and a crying baby. She kept calling me "Dear?" and asking whether or not I was "alright", all the while flashing this too white-too big smile that showed way too many pointed canines. The highlight of the ride occurred when the baby threw up and the housewife responded accordingly with: "Ugh, not on the seat! That's real leather! These children, I swear, they have no sense of direction."

She pulled up in front of my house. "You sure this is it?" She eyed the gnome on our porch suspiciously.

"Yeah."

She smiled her freaky smile, lime green from the light of the dashboard. "Alright dear. You run inside now. Don't want you getting hurt at night like this. There could be some bad men around the corner."

Bad men. Right.

Bad men. Meet pepper spray.

But I answered only with a: "Um, sure. Bye. Thanks, again, for the ride."

I opened the door as fast as I could because she was protesting now and saying something about how it was her pleasure and she hoped her daughter turned out to be as wonderful as you – and she seemed just a tad too serious for my taste.

The car door slammed and I was inside and away from the bad things in a matter of seconds.

A sigh escaped my lips and I leaned back against the door.

Never.

Hitch hiking.

Again.

I hung my coat and slipped off my shoes as quietly as I could.

"Bell? Is that you?" Charlie poked his head out from the living room.

No such luck.

"Hey dad." I greeted.

"You're home pretty late."

"Yeah. I know. I went down to the beach for a little while."

His brow furrowed. "Oh. Well. As long as there's no drugs . . ."

I cracked a smile. "Yeah Dad. No crack. Just waves man, waves."

"Okay Bell. Night." His face scrunched up as he took a closer look at me. "Wait, have you been crying?" Then his eyes widened. Yeah dad. I regret you saying that too.

He shrunk back, uncomfortable.

I shuffled my sock covered feet over the floorboards."Allergies. You know, all the green here works up my sinuses. Night."

And I was up the stairs and locked in my room.

I dove for my bed, climbing in and pulled the covers over my head. It was stuffy and warm and turned the air green, so I stayed.

My breath bounced back at me, hot and dense and I searched around for my iPod. Head phones plugged, music playing but it just wasn't the same now.

My eyes squeezed shut.

The first piano notes of Fiona Apple's "Oh Well" sounded.

"Jesus," I muttered.

The world just loved watching me cry.

And sure enough, I teared up at the chorus.

None of it was the same.

Knowing the things I knew now. Having these urges and feelings.

This wasn't Isabella from Phoenix's room anymore. It was Bell from Fork's space.

There used to be a Coke poster taped to the wall. I wonder where it went. I had an orange vintage swivel chair in the corner, and some egg cartons glued to the wall from when I was trying to sound proof this place.

_What wasted unconditional love!_

Gah.

But it _can't_ be over now. You have purpose. And that purpose is to fix it.

Get that chair back in its corner, tack that poster back up, finish the soundproofing.

Stop fucking running.

Draw.

So what if I don't got anything?

It's better than folding all the time. It's better than being a . . .

COWARD.

My heart jerked and sputtered.

I threw back the cover and tripped to the window. I slid the rusty white wood away and up, till the breeze blew in and chilled away the heat. It was snowing again.

Snow.

I tucked my iPod in my pocket and climbed out onto the ledge and then down the paneling.

The cold froze the tips of my fingers but I didn't mind.

I sat, and the roof dug into my ass. It sent a thrill though me, being this high. Towering above the little gnome and the shriveled flowers.

I was unreachable.

I watched the snow falling, memorizing each flake. I could remember snow now. The snow men and the forts and the fights and the sniffles. While swirled around me and dotted the trees.

I was not a coward.

I would do this, I would fix it . . .

Even if it killed me.

* * *

The weekend was both torture and a blessing.

Charlie left for a two day, one night fishing trip, but not before I got the chance to inquire about the whereabouts of my dear, lovely chair.

Of course, I hadn't thought that it was kinda weird for an amnesiac to remember something like that.

Charlie was turning all blue. He looked like I'd just shoot him in the foot.

"Dad?"

Shit.

I killed my father. I told him my hopeless, unattainable memories had come back, even after years of the doctors reciting statistics that were always against us, and now he's been shocked into a stroke or a heart attack and he'll never see me remember that he likes his pizza with anchovies.

"Dad?" I said again, panicked and shaking his shoulder.

He shook his head, and then just stared at me.

His face cracked into a blinding smile, so big and happy and not him that I thought for sure that it was only a symptom of the heart attack –

But then he pulled me into a hug.

And not a half-ass, one arm hug.

A full out, both arms, all around coverage and wonderful hug.

"That's great Bells. That's, that's great. I – I'm so glad."

And he didn't need to tell me that this was the best thing to happen to him in the last five years.

He and his wife go driving, looking for their daughter, and then bam, they hit her at a light.

The wife dies.

The kid can't remember shit, and then she gets shipped off to live with her uncle.

And then you're left here in this empty, once happy but now just dead, house.

A life ripped and gone in just two weeks.

Charlie tells me the chair's in the basement, and so is all my other junk (and he doesn't have to tell me why he's saved all off it either).

He leaves before he cries in front of me.

But I know he will.

And for once, the tears won't be so sad.

I fix myself some breakfast and try not to think of Mom, then go chair hunting.

The attic's dusty and dark. Very typical. I don't think anyone's been down there since the initial drop off.

It took a lot of heaving and huffing and I think I sprained my back, but the chair and the poster were put back in place. Plus my old record player and the Nick Cave vinyl.

I smiled contently at my achievement, swiveling around in the chair for kicks.

Ah.

Gravity, law, pushing, force, merry-go-round, spin, spin, spin . . .

Keep spinning me baby.

Don't stop.

It's on its way, with a role for me to play.

Maybe it'll be the one I want this time.

Maybe I'll fix it.

Maybe the world can stop crying.

Maybe . . .

I'll end up finding my way back to them.

* * *

* * *

so . . .

review?


	12. Chapter 11

hey guys. where the fuck's all my reviews? c'mon. this sad, angsty shit's gotta be better then some of the other stuff out there that's got like, 500 reviews. gah. you guys suck. here. have this fanfuckingtastic, 3,000 word chapter, courtesy of moi, who wrote it uber fast and with a lot of heart. check out the songs i mention too. some of my favorites.

don't own.

* * *

No.

Sleep.

Let me fucking sleep.

I turned into my pillow, smothering my face with the fluffy softness. I tried to drift back into unconsciousness, away from awake, bright, harsh, alert, aware . . .

Into soft, warm, blissfully dark . . .

But then:

Shrieking voices. Broken furniture. Tears and apologies and beer cans.

My eyes snapped open, breaking away from the beginning of the dream. I'd already had it tonight. And I was not in for a repeat performance.

The whole thing was weird.

My mom was there . . .

I shook it off.

Not the time or the place.

I groaned, peeking up from the sea of covers at the clock.

Christ.

I rubbed away the blurriness in my eyes.

But the glowing digits were still the same.

Four thirty.

In the morning.

You've got to be . . . I was _not_ ready to get up yet . . . maybe I should just try and sleep again and . . .

Nothing. No droopy lids or yawns or sinking feelings.

Just . . . this. Insomnia.

Fucking insomnia. God forbid I get even one night's decent rest.

Poor, stupid, grumpy, out of wack, me.

I stretched, popping the joints in my back. Might as well greet the fucking day. I did have shit to take care of.

Like the dishes.

And the laundry.

And the obscenely loud growling in my stomach.

I fell back into the pillows.

Great. I used the last of the cereal yesterday. And while preparing dinner last night, I'd realized just how long our eggs had been expired.

So we were out of food.

There was seriously zilch. Nada. Zip.

All that was left were some jars of beans. And maybe some egg salad.

But neither of those sounded very appetizing, especially for breakfast.

I contemplated just staying in bed until the sun rose, so that maybe I could rise with the day.

My stomach contracted in on itself.

Ow.

With a sigh, I swung my legs over the edge of my bed, falling over invisible objects as I made my way toward the hoodie tree. Stepping back, I took a moment to admire the gnarly-branch like hooks, the old wood.

Yet another find salvaged from my raid of the attic.

I pulled on the black one, the worn one with the paint stains on the cuffs and the hole in the hem. The holes I'd cut out for my thumbs.

A little pang in my chest.

It used to be Edward's. But I stole it from him in sixth grade. I hadn't know that until just two days ago, after years of wearing it.

I smiled a grim smile and tugged on my Docs. The thing was still too big.

Down the stairs, grab the keys, the wallet, and I was in my truck.

I plugged in my iPod as I drove, slapping my cheeks awake.

Charlie'd been nice enough to have one of his colleagues drive my truck home yesterday. The guy had showed up stuttering and sweating. Like me being an amnesiac was something he had to worry about. But then again, there are all types of people.

People who forget, and people who are afraid of people who forget.

I turned my attention to music selection, scrolling through my artists until settling on some good old 90's pop-funk.

I drove into the sleeping town, with all its gates drawn over the shop windows, and then out, further down and toward the school.

The empty school.

The dark houses.

The night just gone and the morning almost present.

I was driving along a wrinkle in time.

Just as Gregg Alexander started to rap about Courtney Love and Marilyn Manson, I saw it.

The big, red M.

My stomach gurgled happily.

I pulled into a parking space, not bothering with the drive-through. I already knew that no one was working the intercom thing this early.

I pushed open the doors and was immediately hit with that McDonald's smell. You know the one. Oily fries, the thin, greasy burgers and the watered down soda smell, combined with the cleanliness of a hospital.

I walked up to the counter to order, noting idly that I was the only one here except for this greasy old man with a beard like Dumbledore's in the back.

The girl at the counter looked at me blankly as I approached.

Her eyes were dead, like the fast food industry had sucked all the life and joy and fun right out of her. She had a huge white head on her forehead under black and red died side bangs. Her name plate red "Raven".

She stared at me a moment longer while I played with a stray string on my sweat shirt. Then: "What'll it be?"

I grinned a little and ticked the items off on my fingers as I said them. "A hamburger, large fries and a 16 oz chocolate shake please."

"No McMuffin? McGriddle?"

"Uh, what?"

She pointed a shiny black finger at the glossy sign on the menu.

Spongy egg and fake biscuits stared down at us.

"Oh," I answered. Ew. "Thanks. But I think I'll pass."

"Fine." She rang up the total. "$ 8.67."

I handed over the money and she put it in the cash register, going back to the kitchen to deliver my order.

I sat at a booth with a window and plugged in my head phones again, the back of my head resting against the pane.

Sleater-Kinney's "Good Things" was half over when the door opened and my morning took a drastic, upward, downward, spin around turn.

Edward fucking Cullen walked in.

And he just waltzed right up to Emo-Raven and ordered his fries and cheese burger and strawberry shake.

I cowered in the corner of my booth, turning the music louder.

Oh my God. OhmyGod, OhmyGod.

Shit.

My pulse picked up and rang in my ears.

He was here.

And I was so not ready to talk to him. Maybe, give me a week to sort things and then I'll fix it and we can start over, whether that be with each other . . . or without.

I nibbled on my finger nail.

And I looked like . . . well I don't think anyone was very attractive at five in the morning, still in their pajamas with un-brushed teeth and knotty hair.

Except Edward. He was gorgeous all the time.

Even in his flannels and red high tops and sweat shirt and stupid ratty Queen shirt that I just remembered he'd had since the fifth grade, and coincidently, that was also the last time he washed it.

I stuffed a hand in the pockets of my sweat pants and watched him tap his foot and scratch his hair. It stuck up all over, like it'd been gelled.

I wondered why he was here so early. This horribly, ridiculously early.

But then again, we did use to do this when we little. But we used bikes then.

I watched him some more, song changing in the background.

And we were different then. Then, we _were_ a "we". One thing, partners in crime. It was over now.

His laces were untied.

Old habits must die really slow painful pride hurting deaths.

Pretty Girls Make Graves – Blue Lights.

_Hello, I'm neurotic. _

_Creating problems that don't exist._

Or maybe this was a newly resurrected one.

I know I hadn't felt the urge to ride around randomly on my bike or in my car or pick up breakfast way early at fast food chains until moving to Forks.

Had it really only been . . . eleven, twelve days ago?

Time sure does condense here.

And because the song was making me angsty and he was still there, with his back to me, hair all red and feet all tap-y, I pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

I brought it to my lips and inhaled deeply, then blew out in little puffs, attempting smoke rings. It didn't work. They dissolved into the air too fast to be anything.

My hand shook and the cigarette ash flew around and how did he always make me so frightened?

I caught his profile as he turned toward me, before I hid behind my hair.

Someone slid into the seat across from me and I didn't have to look up to know who it was.

I clicked the pause button and the quiet hurt more than the blasting.

A tray with a signature McDonald's paper bag appeared in front of me.

I looked up.

"I got your food." He said.

I nodded my thanks, and, too much of a coward, didn't say anything else.

He unwrapped his food, pulling off the wrapping of the straw and sticking it in his milkshake.

I opened the bag and reached for a little golden fry. Nibbling on the edge, I watched him squirt tiny packets of ketchup onto an unfolded burger wrapper.

I flicked off the ash from my cigarette on the red plastic tray.

I took another fry, swiping the tip in his pool of ketchup.

He dipped his own fry in the red goop, and our fries danced around in blood together.

I brought the fry to my mouth, tapping the ash off on the tray again.

He was scruffy, unshaven, again. I noticed how dark it was. Darker then his hair, but still red. Funny, all this red against the green eyes. He wasn't even Irish.

I noticed how similar we both looked too. Maybe it was because of the memories, and that he wasn't such a mystery anymore. That he wasn't a friend, or a foe.

Either way, the circles under our eyes, the pallor, the animated corpse look – it was in both of us.

He painted a red circle with his fry on a napkin.

"I –" I started, but I didn't know how to finish.

He met my gaze, and he didn't seem sad or angry or even void. He was just . . . here with me.

Not my enemy.

Not my friend.

But he was my Edward.

"I'm sorry." I said. "But sometimes it gets so bad I just can't stay any . . ." My words died in my throat because now he wasn't just here.

He looked angry. His hand gripped the table and his knuckles where white.

"What?" I whispered.

He didn't answer but for to close his eyes.

"What?" I repeated. Why wasn't he answering? Why was he just . . . sitting there all tense and hurt looking?

"Edward, what?"

But still, nothing.

He wouldn't open his eyes.

I was trying to fix us.

And he wouldn't look at me.

It made me angry.

"What the fuck's wrong? Don't you block me out. Edward – Edward, _what's wrong_?"

His fist slammed down on the table and his eyes snapped open. "God Damnitt Bella, you're what's wrong. You're all wrong. You can't stop obsessing over the past, all the fucking bad things. You're –" He turned away, hands clenched.

Say it.

"Say it."

His jaw tightened.

"Fucking say it Edward."

He swallowed. "I – I can't."

"Fine. I will. I'm scared. I'm a coward." I finished.

He sighed hard. "I shouldn't have started this."

"But you're not sorry."

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What Edward? You have to tell me. Or I'll just . . . " I trailed off. I didn't know what I'd do.

He sighed again, but turned back toward me.

His eyes burned and then he started to speak. "You won't take any risk. You just sit there with your cigarettes and watch everyone get hurt. And then you blame it on yourself. All because you think you killed your mom and our friendship and now you're too scared to go do or try or love anything. You won't let anyone in. Even when I try and try to bring you back, you just cower away. You won't let me help you cause you're too scared of hurting me in the process, and it's so fucking frustrating and I just don't know how to deal with it anymore. But I don't think I can let you go either."

"Sorry."

He scowled. "Don't be like that."

"Like what?"

"Don't blow me off cause you don't know how to answer."

I played with my fingers.

"I – "

My face twisted up.

"I hurt people. And people hurt me. That's what the world is. That's all it ever will be. I hurt my mother and you, and then you hurt me, and then I hurt you and the only way to avoid it is to –"

"_Jesus_." I broke off from my rant and watched him cradle his face in his hands, his palms covering his eyes.

"The only way to avoid getting hurt is to what? _Run?_ Where's that gonna get you?"

I didn't know how to answer.

"That's all you got? So you'll just keep running and running and end up cold and alone –"

"And overdosing on prescription anti-depressant pills."

"Fuck Bell." And his hand ran through his hair.

"Look, can we please, please just stop. I don't want to talk about this. I just wanna fix it. I don't want to keep running."

His face went all furious and hurt. "No! We have to talk about it. You say you'll stop running, you'll fix it, but Bell, how do I know that you're – that you mean it? How do I know that you won't just run out the door when it gets to be too much and different and scary? I need to know that you'll be here, no matter the hurt or the memory."

All the anger and frowns and lines dissolved from his face and he just looked sad now. Hanging on my every word, and he was staring at me like we were all alone in the world, and it made me anxious and silly so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"I wanted to be a scientist."

He stared at me funny but I couldn't stop now.

"And I was never really mad at you for kissing me, I just wanted to annoy you. But I did feel secretly bad about teasing the knights at Medieval Times. Not because I liked them, but because they reminded me of the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz. When -"

I swallowed. Too much information but now that I started, there was no turning back.

I couldn't keep running from the hurt.

"Before, Renee and Charlie used to fight. All the time. About anything and everything. So that night it was really bad. They were screaming and things were breaking. I tried shutting my door and turning on the stereo – but I could still hear them. I couldn't handle it. That's why I snuck out. I was crying and sad and I didn't see the car. That's why I have, because I still have it, even if I can remember, the amnesia. That's why Charlie's a dead man. That's why Renee's gone."

The cigarette burned out. I fumbled around for another one and lit it, avoiding his gaze. "That's why we're like this. Why I run."

I inhaled but it only made me tenser. "I just thought you should know that. And that I really am tired of running."

I unwrapped my burger and took a huge bite, making sure everything that I had said wouldn't go flying back into my mouth before he had time to process it.

The food felt heavy and meaningless in the bottom of my stomach.

And he didn't nod or give me an understanding look or word like I'd come to expect from people called friends.

Then again, he wasn't my friend now, was he?

He was just Edward.

His eyes closed for a second and he sucked in his bottom lip and then:

"I only hated Mike Newton because he once told me he thought you were hot." And the suddenness of his words made me jump.

"Touching your tits was amazing, even though you hardly had anything there. Your skin was soft and warm. I made your sandwich with extra lettuce because when you tried to eat it, and you always did, just to prove to me that you could, all the lettuce would spill out over your chin and I thought that was the cutest thing ever, even though it's not."

His words singed me somewhere deep.

Cause we were sharing these memories, these little snapshots of a fantasy-perfect-down-the-rabbit-hole world.

I bit my lip and he continued.

"I'm afraid that I fucked things up between us cause I wanted you to be the Bella I wanted, the friend I'd lost. But then I realized that that's impossible. Cause the you that I want is not the same as the one I'm gonna get, the one that you are. It's stupid to try to see you as something that would heal us, because you won't. You'll fuck everything up and you'll always be all melodramatic and difficult and masochistic, but that's you. And I need that. You're fucked up but I just – I just need you."

He stared at me as my second cigarette burned out in my hand. The dark morning light filtered in through the window over his face and hair and made shadows around his eyes. "You don't have to save us. You can hurt us. But leaving would only hurt us more. Just be here."

The somewhere deep place inside me burned with an intensity too strong to not give into.

"I cry too much," I said.

"I don't cry enough." And he bit into his cheeseburger, watching the traitor tear slip down my face.

Under the table, his hand brushed mine and then gripped it tight.

* * *

all i need ya is love . . .

from my 68 alerts that is. XD

(sorry i'm so whiny. let's call it PMS. rawr.)


	13. Chapter 12

**WE BROKE ONE HUNDRED. YES.**

this chapter should have been out like two, three weeks ago. unfortunately, i'm a freak who can't stop messing with the dialogue and non-existent story line for her life.

my bad.

i also mention a lot of ridiculous music here. New Radicals baby. i don't know. i couldn't help it. and i'm sorry if i fucked up and it's confusing because of that.

don't own.

* * *

Edward had to haul me out of McDonaldsbecause that traitor tear had multiplied and brought back an army. He pushed me into the passenger seat and I'd pulled him close, and he had to hold me for fifteen minutes before I'd let him drive.

I watched him for a while. His hand on the steering wheel. He didn't look at me and I worried that maybe I'd scared him off with my waterworks.

Not after . . . not after everything.

"Sorry," I muttered.

His gaze stayed leveled on the road.

I continued. Cause I couldn't have any more of this uncomfortable-communication-problem stuff. "I guess I'm just one of those pussies who cry during The Notebook."

He was stock still for a second and I scolded myself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could you bring up pop culture at a time like this?

But then a little smile tugged on the edges of his lips.

"I'm just gonna turn on the radio, kay?"He said.

"Alright." And I was happy and relieved . . . cause he was talking to me now.

He fiddled with the dial, and I caught the beginning of a song.

I gasped and smacked his hand away.

Grinning, I bobbed my head to the music.

He gave me a look.

"What?"

He rolled his eyes towards the radio.

"Something wrong with the music Edward?"

He shook his head at me and turned back to the road.

"Really. I dare you to question the awesomeness of all that is the New Radicals. Serenade with me Edward! _But isn't_ _it a wonderful world Carolina? Look at the birds in the sky! Jehovah made this whole joint for you Carolina! And isn't it so wonderful to be alive!"_

That tiny slight smile appeared on his face again. "You're absurd. And your singing voice sucks."

I sighed.

I knew I was being silly.

But he was being annoying and resistant.

And it was ticking me off.

I mean, Christ, we deserved a little happiness didn't we?

"Will you stop being such a douche?"

He tensed.

But then he sighed too and did some actually smiling, and then joined me in the singing.

"_So original in her black lipstick, listening to some obscure band. But isn't she pissed that all the other non-conformists, who listen to that same obscure band!"_

I busted out laughing, and kept giggling until we stopped at a red light. I reached for our McDonald's bag and pulled out a handful of fries. They were cold and kinda chewy, but still as yummy as oily food can get.

I held my fist out to him.

He plucked one out of the french-fry-bouquet with his teeth, and it hung out of his mouth for a moment like that toothpick Jazz used to flick around with his tongue, before he ate it.

When he finished chewing: "You've got to be the only person I know who still listens to the New Radicals."

My mouth dropped open and a fry fell along with it. "That is so not true! Alice and I used to listen all the time."

"Yeah. And you were nine."

"Well, whatever. Alice follows the trends. Besides, you still listen."

He shook his head.

"You do."

"I don't."

My brow furrowed.

"You _do_. Stop denying it."

He chuckled and didn't answer which was worse than if he had.

"So then how to you know the lyrics?" I asked.

He froze a little. Hah. Caught red, New Radicals handed.

Then his face smoothed over, trying to play it all cool. "Everyone knows their songs. They were a one hit wonder. Everyone hates them too –"

"No! Don't you even – I – if you finish that sentence _I'll _hate _you_ forever! You like them. You're just being an ass right now cause . . . I don't know why, but you just are." I huffed back into my seat, crossing my arms.

Unbelievable.

He listened. When we were younger, this was our theme music.

Of course, around anyone else but me he used to wrinkle his nose and act all "that's-so-juvenile-I-only-listen-to-great-bands-blah-blah-blah".

Still.

He listened.

"Bell?"

"What?"

"Shut up."

Silence resumed as I fumed and he drove in his bubble of pride. Stupid, stubborn Edward not wanting to admit he listened to dorky, spazzy, fabulous music.

"What's your favorite color?"

And the question was so sudden and out of the grayish blue, I jumped about ten feet high, and my head collided with the car roof.

_Pain._

"OW! What the fuck Edward?! Your car's made of steel!" I gripped my head and moaned.

Pain. Like there was a damn earthquake in my head.

His cool broke and he howled with laughter.

My cheeks burned and I kicked his leg, and then he lost his grip on the steering wheel and we swerved down the road.

I screamed.

His hands found the steering wheel again, and he gripped it, getting the car under control.

"Don't do that!" He yelled.

"Well don't buy a fucking steel car!"

"The car roof is not steel. It's felt and plastic." He was breathing hard, and he rubbed at the place where I'd kicked him.

"That's not plastic."

"It is."

"No, it's really not."

He scowled and toward towards me. "And why isn't it?"

"It's too hard."

He snorted and looked back at the road.

"It is!" I defended.

"Everything's a hazard to you Bella." And the prick had the decency to smirk.

"Shut up."

I turned the radio up so I wouldn't have to listen to him rationalize anymore.

He drove. I bobbed my head to the music and winced each time.

And we didn't talk.

It started to drizzle and he turned on the window wipers.

I watched them swish back and forth.

_Right, left. Right, left. Right, left._

Silence.

Throb.

Pound.

Head.

Ow.

"Edward?"

He looked at me, startled at how feeble my voice sounded. The adrenaline from the swerve catching up with me.

"What's wrong?"

"I think I cracked it open."

"What?" His brow furrowed in confusions, concern.

"My head."

"You're head?"

I nodded.

Now he just looked amused. "Bella. You're fine."

"No! I think it's bleeding!"

"It's not bleeding."

"How do you know?"

"Um, there's no blood?" He quirked an eyebrow at me.

"I have a lot of hair, don't I?"

He scowled a little. "That's a stupid argument. If there was enough of it to be serious, you'd have noticed –"

I gasped. "Wait. So there's blood . . . but I can't see it?"

"No!" He ran a hand through his hair. "Look at it this way. There's nothing sharp up there. It's just plastic and –"

"Steel. Diamonds. Nails."

"Yeah, and Morning Stars."

"Those are spike clubs right?"

"Yeah. And they're not up there. You're fine Bell."

I tenderly touched the back of my head. Ow.

"You sure?" Cause I wasn't.

"Absolutely. I'll get you an ice pack if you want."

I hesitated. But no, he'd done enough already. "No. As long as there's no blood."

He looked at me for a second. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." And I smiled at him.

"Favorite color?"

I blinked. "What's up with you and colors? And shouldn't you already know that? Like, isn't a BFF rule?"

"Who said we were BFFs?" And he grinned at me.

"Shut up."

"And what _is_that, anyway? B – F – Fs. Best friend forever, right?"

I shook my head. "Wrong. Best fucking friend. No 'forever'. That's just weird and clingy and dumb."

"How is best fucking friend smarter than best friend forever. Jesus. I mean, c'mon, it's all the same thing -"

"Shut up. It's not the same. And I never said it was smarter. Just better."

"Stop saying shut up. It's too thirteen. And really, _better_?"

"Pardon me, but I kinda haven't hung out with people since thirteen. And yes, _better._"

"Which explains your clearly dated text speak skills."

"Shut –"I stopped myself, but he was smirking at me anyway.

"Bitch."

"Real mature." He countered.

I groaned and threw up my hands.

"Color." He insisted.

I gave in, and leaned back into the seat, sighing. "Okay, Christ. Calm down. Green. But I like orange too."

"Mine's red."

"Yeah. I know. Like candy apples right?"

His smile turned abruptly soft and he was staring at me again, eyes all my favorite colors. "It's nice to have you know things."

I bit my lip.

"Well, it's good to remember that I had braces." I laughed, twisting a piece of hair around my finger nervously.

_It's nice to have you know things…_

Sorry I didn't know them before.

I watched him shake his head, the way his hair fluffed out all over. I wondered when he last bothered to brush it.

God, no, never mind. I liked it better like this.

"Those damn braces. Whenever I tried to kiss you my tongue and lips would get cut." He chuckled, lost in memories.

I shifted in my seat and gnawed on my own lip some more.

Kissing.

I mean, I remember it. All awkward and fumbly and very thirteen.

And sort of beautiful too.

Was it wrong that I wanted to do it again?

But that wouldn't be right. We were barely – we were friends, or something, and kissing was a thing that just didn't happen now.

Or ever.

Maybe in a world where we weren't so fucked . . . but we were, and there was no use dwelling on the should'ves, would'ves, could'ves.

I stared at his lips anyway.

No one spoke.

And we went back to our pride filled bubbles.

And then, cause it was killing me that he was being such an ass about this: "_She came from a world that is so far out_."

He groaned, and his head hit the back of the seat with a thud. "Bell, enough. I really don't listen to that shit anymore."

Such a liar.

I persevered boldly. _"Roller-skating into my life I never had no doubt." _

"Bella," he repeated, and he was glaring at me.

"_She asked where'd you'd get that velvet-colored hair,"_

"God Damnitt Bella, stop!"

I grinned wide and sang some more.

His eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to try to shut me up again but I beat him to it. "_I said I got lots more somewhere if you touch my_ –"

He pulled over so fast it knocked the breath out of me. I stopped singing, my heart skipped, and he pulled me into his lap.

He was staring, glowering, burning green stuff into me, and I forgot all about 90s funk. He leaned forward.

I could feel his hot breath blow over my eyelashes.

Oh my . . . Shit.

"Shut up." He whispered, and he still looked angry but sorta sexy now too. His eyes glanced downwards, to my mouth.

"Edward," I whispered back.

His gaze flickered up to mine. "You can't keep –"Then he looked away altogether, jaw clenched.

Without thinking, I cupped his face and stroked the edge of his ear with my fingers. The stubble tickled my fingers.

Say it, Edward. Whatever it is.

I need you to tell me.

He looked back to me, and my stomach filled with flutters.

"You can't run away from everything and then start chasing the past like that."

I snatched my hand back.

What?

Did he not want me now?

I mean, just . . .

_What?_

"I – I, what? I can't, I don't understand –"

"No, that came out wrong." He said, and he closed his eyes. His hands raked through his hair. "I meant that it's . . . disorienting. For me. We, Jasper, Alice, just everyone - we haven't talked about the past in . . . a very long time. Even the minor things."

"Oh."

His face scrunched up, and my hands tingled to touch him again. To try to get it, what he meant. To comfort him.

But I couldn't do that.

I shouldn't even be here.

Him and Alice and Em and Jazz and Rose – I mean, _Emmet_ for God's sake – all avoiding everything we were and did and watched and loved, and that was just so wrong. They should've still played Civil War board games on Jasper's insistence, they should've still blasted music from Edward's stereo, they should've – they could've – they didn't.

Was it really so bad that no one even talked about it anymore?

I slipped off Edward's lap and into my seat. It felt cold compared to his warm body.

I picked at my fingernails and stayed silent as he got back on the road. We passed the school and took a left.

The forest was denser here, a darker green with huge, Victorian houses nestled into the woods. Edward lived around here. But we weren't going to his house.

I glanced at him, trying to be all discreet, but he was looking at me too.

His eyes held mine for a moment.

Then he smiled tentatively, and he didn't have to say anything for me to get that he was sorry and confused.

But what he did say didn't hurt much.

His lips parted and he murmured "_You may not be the word's solution, but you're still a word class revolution."_

* * *

We finished off the rest of the burgers and fries, and due to painful stomach cramps, stopped at DunkinDonuts for some munchies around noon. We got those little round balls, the Munchkins, and I fed Edward powdered jelly while he drove.

It got all over his stubble-y chin and I had trouble not licking it off.

I settled back into my seat, popping a White Stripes LP into the stereo and a glazed chocolate into my mouth.

I licked the sugar off my lips and turned the volume up so as to properly head bang to Dead Leaves and The Dirty Ground.

The guitar got going and so did my head.

"Hey! Bell, hey, fuck, stop!"

I giggled, and he grabbed a fistful of my shirt and pushed me back.

"I can't drive with you doing that."

I stuck my tongue out at him and he pursed his lips.

"What? You don't like this song either?"

"No. White Stripes are fine."

"Well. Okay. Don't be a dipshit then." I finished.

He scowled. "I couldn't see –"

"You stopped my fun."

"You could have gotten us crashed."

"_Could_."

He rolled his eyes. "Would have gotten us crashed."

I lifted my hands in defeat. "Alright, God. I surrender. I have the potential to crash cars."

"Damn straight. Now put on your seatbelt. "

"What? No!"

"Bell. It saves lives. And I would greatly prefer your life saved."

"So you're gonna crash us?"

"No." His brow furrowed. "Just, put it on."

I didn't move.

"Put it one Bella,"

I crossed my arms stubbornly.

He growled, stopping at the light and lurching toward me. I shrieked.

His hand stretched across my lap and my laughter cut off abruptly.

_The fuck –?_

His fingers curled around the gray belt.

It took me a moment or five hundred to breathe again and even then . . . shit, he was close.

He pulled the belt across my hips and I saw his Adam's apple bob.

There was a little nick on his jaw where he had cut himself shaving a while ago. And a tiny scar on his cheek from when I accidentally knocked him into a table.

I stared at his neck, the tendons and his skin and my stomach knotted tight.

He glanced down at me while he fumbled with the clasp, and his eyes where nervous and so close I could see myself reflected green and tiny in them. They didn't stray from mine.

I swallowed dryly and his bottom lip trembled and I wanted to kiss him.

I really wanted to kiss him.

I was going to kiss him.

I leaned up and he leaned down -

_Click. _

The seatbelt locked.

He froze, hovering above me. His eyes widened and I just wanted him to stay and kiss me and make everything alright, so I could forget that we weren't what we used to be. That we were just the next best thing to what life could have been like. That in this life, we couldn't be together.

He looked conflicted.

But he moved back to his seat.

Safe and unhappy.

I breathed out a long breath. My fingers uncurled and my teeth dislodged from my lips.

My bones felt like cake filling.

And my eyes burned in that familiar way they do.

And I didn't – I didn't want to think about what had just happened.

He turned sharp corners and ran lights and I nibbled on Munchkins and listened to the music.

My stomach bubbled with . . . what was it again?

Fright.

And frightened, being scared, nervous, it made me tense and clench and shake in my seat. I wanted to look at him.

I set the box of donuts aside, my appetite gone.

But what did he think of what we'd just – what had just happened? Maybe it was nothing. It meant nothing to him, and I was tricking myself into seeing something, and this whole thing was just another nothing wrongly thought to be a something.

A mistake.

We couldn't be anything more. We'd never be anything more. I was just overanalyzing.

But God knows I wanted more (the sum, the product, the everything possible, those _mistakes_.).

My hands fisted around the seat belt and I shrank back into the thing I was six hours ago.

Great Bella.

There goes your fucking progress.

"Hey," He said.

I couldn't read his expression, but it wasn't happy.

"I'm – I'm sorry about . . ." He trailed off, eyes darting anywhere by me.

"Um, yeah."

"I know you don't feel – and that's okay cause I shouldn't anyway but – I mean, that wasn't just – I – shit," He turned away and ran a hand through his hair.

"Have you ever been in love?" I blurted, and we both cringed at my word vomit.

His teeth grinded together. "I – I don't think that –"

He closed his eyes for a second, like he was concentrating. "Yeah."

Me and my big mouth that could never shut up and: "Who was she?"

"You don't know her." And he stared out the window hard.

"Oh."

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Well I - I think he just stuck a hot knife in my heart and twisted counter clockwise. My eyes burned and I fucking hated all the crying I was always doing.

But God, Bella, not this time. You asked for it.

And this shouldn't be important. You didn't come here for friends, and so what that he had a girlfriend?

And being here now? You mean nothing anyway. You have no future together. That's silly and pathetic and sad and so not happening.

"Have you ever been in love?" He said, and it sounded all forced and 'I-don't-give-a-shit'.

I just wanted to turn away and bawl, but he was still there, and I was tired of breaking in front of him. So I just shrugged and mumbled a "Maybe."

I pulled up my legs and locked my hands around them.

We were quiet and it hurt my ears.

He wasn't looking at me and it was horrible and I was cold again.

This wasn't us. This was tense and bad and hurt and not us. We weren't us right now. This wasn't us. Where the fuck was us (the jokes, the play, the fumbling, the _happy_)?

And so out came more word vomit.

"Remember that last summer? We stayed up all night and I basically lived at your house. There was this one night when we watching Family Guy. You had a bruise on your elbow from where Em pushed you down the stairs that morning and I was writing poetry about eating disorders. You looked up at me and I asked how your elbow was feeling and then you just said, real out of the blue: "I'm glad we're in synch."

He didn't move.

"Remember that?"

"Yeah." He mumbled.

Good. Don't let me be the only one to appreciate these almost lost forever moments.

I stretched out my fingers and changed the CD. Some Nirvana song.

"We're um – It's not like that. Right now. I mean, it usually is. But just, because of the seat belt, we aren't us anymore. We're somebody else. We're a muddled version of what used to be us. I – think. We just aren't – we aren't – fuck."

I buried my face in my hands.

"You were my best friend Bell."

_Were._

And what was he getting at?

My eyes scrunched tight against my palms.

"You are my best friend. Now."

I let out a shaky breath.

_No_.

"But-"

"But when we were both younger, this was all going – someplace past that. More than that." He cleared his throat. "You should know that. And that sometimes, I just don't – I forget that we're not like that anymore."

_That we aren't what we used to be. That even if I stop running and you stop expecting, we'll never be quite the same as we were supposed to be._

"Can you take me home?"

A pause.

"Yeah. Okay."

"I'm sorry that –"

"It's fine Bella."

I cringed.

"I still want to be . . . friends."

He didn't speak, and I peaked at him through my hands.

He nodded and his eyes met mine.

"Tell Alice I'm sorry. And Em and Rose and Jazz."

He nodded again. But his eyes were dead and cold.

"Edward?"

"Just, what Bella?!" He snapped.

I flinched.

Fuck. Just stop it Bella. Look what you're doing.

One more thing.

"Don't – don't go away and don't block me out – please –"My hand stretched out and wrapped around his wrist.

Touch.

Even if he didn't want me like that, even if we couldn't be what we should be, at least we could still be friends.

He jerked and then breathed in fast. His eyes caught mine again and then they were alive and warm, like they should be. He shuddered and spoke. "I won't ever block you out. At least, I'll try not to. It's hard Bella. It just – it is. Who knew having you back would be so complicated?" He laughed bitterly.

"But don't you get it? I don't want to complicate! I want to fix it!"

He stilled and pulled over. I glanced out my window. My house. The gnome. The snow on the roof.

I looked back to him.

I gasped.

He was staring at me, hard, leaning forward over the center console. Hair fell into his face and his jaw was set.

"I told you you didn't have to fix it."

His voice was gritty and low and I still wanted to kiss him.

"But I –"

"Bella." His eyes tightened. "Remember not pursuing the past? Bella, just, please, stop trying to make us perfect again. Just be with me." And his face got tired and sad. "I'm so tired of analyzing our situation. Trying to make us better. I can't sleep. I can't taste anything. I can't feel. And I think of you – I think about you entirely too much. I've thought so much I just can't think anymore."

His face crumbled, and my chest split. I couldn't bear this. What we were doing to each other.

He was sad. So, so sad.

And I was sad.

And we were both so tired of being so _fucking sad_.

"Can't we just – be? Without worrying or any of that?"

"I don't know Bella." His voice was heavy, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know if I'm – strong enough to not just be your friend."

My breath caught.

"You're just – Bella you're everything I've ever wanted and – I can't say this now. We barely know what we're- "

"I want to be with you."

He looked at me, and his face was shocked and confused but his eyes were just a little bit more right.

So I swallowed my fear and regrets and all the dire possibilities and said it again. For him. For us.

"I want to be with you."

* * *

the songs are "Jehovah Made This Whole Joint For You" and "Technicolor Lover", in that order. yes, they're especially dorky. personally, i think it's genius. XD also, just for fun, make sure you've listened to "Grace" by Jeff Buckley, cause i just really love that song.

now, gimme reviews.

XD

no, but seriously. gimme them words.


	14. Chapter 13

yeah, yeah. i'm taking a while with the updates. but man, i've been stressed lately. what with fan fiction dot net and its weirdness and school and just, ya know. LIFE. XD

oh! and i changed my pen name. forget to mention that last chap. it was just a tad too emo for me. eh.

a quick note on E and B. Bella's totally ready to embrace her past, but she's apprehensive when it comes to exposing her actual feelings. Edward's the same, but vice versa. He's sort of scared of the past. i mean, after all, he and the gang have barely talked about B in years. it's too painful. but he does know he adores (cough loves) her, so, at least one of them knows their feelings.

this chapters a bit of happy too. so no yapping. just read and leave me some lovin ya'll. XD

you know, today was NYC's first snow day in like, 2,784,372,295,671 years. i woke, got all excited, and then fell back to sleep. XD great day.

* * *

I woke up slowly.

And then shot straight up.

Because, gah, I mean . . .

Last night.

My eyes squeezed shut against the revelation, the hugeness of it all, and a painfully wide grin overtook my face. I shuddered out a sigh, and my eyes snapped back open, flitting across my room and marveling at the fact that I could remember him standing here.

Much younger of course, but still . . .

_Edward, _and my sleepy heart pulsed with the name.

I threw back the covers and cringed at the cold air.

Ugh. Fuck.

Mornings.

I shivered and padded down the hallway to the bathroom.

The shower felt blissful; the hot water rolling the tension from my back and shoulders away in waves.

I wrapped a towel around my body, shuffling back to my room and throwing on a scuffed up pair of jeans and a New Radicals t-shirt, just to spite him. I shrugged into the hoodie from last night, pushing my thumbs through the holes in the cuffs and making my way over to my dresser.

I stared at my face.

The circles under my eyes.

The smile.

The pale skin and the glint shinning through my expression.

I was a _contradiction_.

I grabbed my brush and pulled it through my hair one, two, three times cause it was too knotty to manage any more than that.

And then I took a good look at all the makeup.

My lips pursed.

My fingers clenched.

My eye might have twitched.

But then: Why not?

I reached for an eye pencil.

I smiled big and cheesy at myself when I was done. There we are sunshine. Greeting the day and all the jazz.

I was downstairs sipping at my coffee cheerfully, relishing in the strong, earthy taste, the caffeine buzz, when I realized my fuck up.

I broke off mid hum, staring down into the dark liquid.

Yesterday, I had driven to McDonalds in my truck. I had met up with Edward. Edward had driven me home. I had never gotten the truck back.

You need a car to get to school.

"Shit," I muttered.

Right now, that car was currently parked in a fast food parking lot.

What was it with me and just leaving my only form of transportation everywhere?

And cause I couldn't bear all the calamitous possibilities – ranging from someone breaking a window and driving off with my hunk of metal, to walking to school in the rain – I chugged back a too large swallow of my coffee.

A car honked.

I choked.

The coffee spewed from my mouth, spraying the kitchen table.

I leapt up from my seat and raced towards the window, knocking aside the curtains.

My heart jumped into my throat.

Edward was leaning against his Volvo, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

My mouth dropped and he gave a little wave, than pointed to the imaginary watch on his wrist.

He was giving me a ride.

Sweet, wonderful boy.

I spun around, knocking over a chair in the process, and grabbed my coat, slipping both arms through the sleeves and my bag over my shoulder.

I yanked open the door, simultaneously strangling myself with my scarf as I tried to wrap it around my neck while I slid down the wet lawn.

I reached him, breathless.

"Hey," I breathed.

He smiled, and I noticed his jeans, dark ones today, and his smooth jaw. I wondered if it really felt that smooth. If there weren't bits of hair stuck around his jaw, hidden little places on his neck.

I bit my lip and waited for him to say something.

"Hey," He repeated, and I kinda wanted to hit him for it, but didn't just because.

I smiled back and walked around to the passenger seat.

"So um," I started, pulling my seat belt across and locking it. I met his eyes as it snapped in. My face heated.

The almost seat belt kiss.

Gah.

He looked away and shoved the key in the ignition.

"Uh, yeah. Anyway. Thanks for showing up."

He gave me an amused smile as he pulled out, trying to ease the awkwardness. "For showing up?"

"Yeah. What?"

He shrugged.

"Is that, like, a weird thing to thank someone for?" I asked.

"I guess not." His grin slipped a little. "I just sort of came over cause I wanted to see you and I knew you didn't have your truck and, I just didn't really think that you'd, you know, be so happy about that."

I bit my lip and smiled wide, tucking a piece of hair behind my hair. "Well, I am. I'm glad you're here."

He seemed surprised as he looked at me; he'd caught the double, deeper meaning behind my words.

"Can I put some music on?" I rushed.

"Sure. No, wait. You had music dibs all yesterday."

"Fine deejay. Shuffle it."

He snorted, popping a blank CD in at the light.

"No head banging." He warned.

"No car swerving." I countered and he scowled at me.

"Your fault."

I snorted. "You're the one behind the wheel."

"And you're the one who kicked me!"

"Because I was hurt!"

"So you kick people when you're injured?" He raised an eyebrow. "Great logic."

"No," I sniffed. "I kick people when I'm irritated at them."

"There's got to be a lot of bruised people out there then."

I gasped.

"What?"

"Did I – did it bruise?"

"Wait, did what –"

"When I kicked you?"

"Oh." He laughed. "Bell, I'm fine."

"Sure?"

"No."

"I – you – bah – just, shut up." I sputtered.

He turned a corner, chuckling softly at me.

"Besides, Bright Eyes isn't really head banging material. Too folksy." I stated.

He froze and then turned his head to look at me, an appalled look on his face. "Too folksy?" And here he sounded disbelieving.

"Uh, yeah. What?"

He was pinching the bridge of his nose, all agitated like. "I can't believe you just called Bright Eyes _country_." He spat.

"That – that was not what I said! I said _folksy_ – "

"Exactly!"

"It's not the same! I meant in the New Orleans, violin, indie songwriter sort of way. You know."

"No. I don't."

"Edward."

"Bella. Seriously. Don't call them country. They're not."

I stuttered indignantly. "Just – I didn't – I like them too and I think they're - you're – you're inconceivable."

"Don't quote fucking Princess Bride."

I just huffed, leaning back into my seat and singing along with the _folksy_ song.

* * *

I didn't really understand how big of a deal showing up to school with Edward Cullen would be.

But apparently, it _was_ a big deal.

Maybe because Edward was just a little bit anti-social. And of course, he was, after all, the thing all the girls in school secretly lusted after. I wasn't a fool. I'd seen Frizz's dirty little scrap book, full of brooding, rebellious pictures of him.

I didn't really care to know how she'd gotten her hands on those, because frankly, the thing was disturbing.

But either way, when we pulled up that morning, we made quite a scene.

It didn't hurt that we were also practically at each other's throats debating the pros and cons of fast food/take out.

He insisted it was horrible for you.

I called him a hypocrite for the McDonald's escapade and countered that it was easy and tasty.

He had other ideas about what was pleasing to the pallet.

I was right in the middle of calling him an ostentatious, self-important snob when he opened his door and slid from the car.

"Hey! I'm not done talking to you!" But he kept walking with his back to me. I stumbled out of the car after him.

I growled out a sigh and my eyes closed. "Edward! Hey, c'mon, come back. Look, I'm sorry I don't like oysters and caviar –"

"I never said I liked caviar."

I jumped.

He was back in front of me, and he seemed taller than ever suddenly. I studied his smile. It was so much brighter today. It was so much easier today.

"What do you like then? I mean, that isn't fast food or fancy, high quality steak or whatever?"

He shrugged.

I raised an eyebrow.

"I like . . . I like you?" He tried.

"I'm not edible."

"I know, I know, but I like you. You know that, right?"

I blinked.

Wait. Wait. Weren't we just talking about food?

"Um, I guess."

But I . . . didn't. I knew he was willing but, I mean, I didn't even know _my own_ feelings.

So understanding him was like touching Mercury.

Impossible.

"Bell." His eyes were stern, and he was making me nervous.

"Well, you call _me_ disorienting." I shuffled a foot in the gravel. I could feel the laughter bubbling in the pit of my stomach, the scared giggles, and I swallowed them down like cough syrup. They slithered back down, bitter on the back of my tongue.

His hand slid into my hair and I gasped. I could feel his fingers curling in the strands.

My eyes flickered to the ground and my shoes and then his shoes and then his eyes.

Green.

My tongue darted out to swipe across my dry lips.

"Sorry," He murmured.

I nodded and his fingers moved across my cheek.

"I didn't mean to get so . . . intense on you." He cringed. "Mike Newton used to yap to me about falling in love with Lauren and then Jessica and then Lauren again – I promised myself I'd never get like that. Of course, he was horribly obscene – wouldn't shut up about fucking them."

He grinned at me and I stared stupidly back.

Mike – gay? – Frizz – Lauren- love? – sex?

And did he just – did he just indirectly say he _cared_ for me?

No.

Just. Just no.

It could only lead to –

No.

He sighed. "Okay, just, forget I said anything – it was stupid and –"

"It's, no, it's fine Edward. I like that you . . . like me. And I – I like you too. Let's just go kay?"

He nodded and removed his hand.

My cheek felt cold without his skin against mine.

I shook the thought away and hiked my bag further up on my shoulder.

We walked to my locker in silence.

We got stares. Fuck, especially from Frizz. I grimaced under her gaze, trying to bury my head in my hood.

I hated all this attention. I hated this school. This town. God, I hated how I couldn't figure out what me and Edward _were_. Jesus, I know I wanted something more, but how did we know that it wasn't all doomed because of me and my memory shit?

That was the problem with us.

We were confused.

We wanted to draw. We wanted to be a part of it. But we didn't know how.

Too go forward, or to not? What's the next step? Roll the dice or flip the coin? Red, pink or blue?

We just had to . . . play.

"Um so . . ." I looked up from spinning my lock.

Edward leaned against the locker next to mine. He threw a scrap a paper from hand to hand absently. But it distracted me. Back forth. Back forth. Like tennis.

Okay.

So maybe his nervousness was making me nervous in turn.

"You up for ditching the popular kids and sitting with us nerds instead?" He asked suddenly.

I bit my lip. "Depends," I shoved a text book into my bag. "You guys tech geeks?"

"Ah, no, we deal in history."

"Thank God. I hate USB cables."

He chuckled. "Cool. Um, so, I got to go. To class."

"Yeah," I fiddled with the hair scrunchie thing around my wrist and my book slipped out my hand.

He bent to get it. "So, I'll just see you later then."

He handed me the book and I took it, wedging it into my bag as well. "Sure. Yeah. Definitely. Edward?"

He turned back around.

"Is it lame that I don't want you to go?"

"Yeah. Totally lame."

I smacked his arm halfheartedly. He caught my fingers and squeezed.

My cheeks colored. "Lunch then."

"Lunch. Rose and Alice are gonna are gonna have a stroke."

"They won't be . . . mad?"

"Why the hell would they be mad?"

"Well, I just, I ditched your ditch last Friday to go cry on a garbage-covered beach. There's gotta be some resentment after that."

He chuckled and then his face smoothed over, meeting my eyes. "No. Nah. I think they'll be fine about it. You forget how many times Alice used to ditch _us_ to go to that mall. And really, a beach?" He raised an eyebrow.

But I was still reeling from his earlier statement. First because, I _could_ remember, and second because he'd just referenced to the past. Edward and all his apprehensiveness.

The warning bell sounded.

"Shit," He murmured. "Okay, now I really have to go."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So . . . bye?"

"Yeah, bye."

I bit my lip again and he rocked back on his heels, watching me shut my locker.

"Okay, seriously, go to class."

He chuckled and squeezed my fingers one last time.

"Bye Edward."

"Bella," And he released my hand and walked off.

I looked after him, until I lost sight of his tall body as he turned a corner.

Then I sighed and proceeded to make my way to homeroom.

* * *

Frizz caught me right after first period.

"Bella! I've been looking for you everywhere! Gosh, aren't you just so excited for the Winter Ball? It's going to be amazing. I heard from Kris – you know Kris right? - Who's best friend is working on the decorations and streamers and stuff, that they're going for a blue theme. Like, underwater and fish. Isn't that cool? So anyway, I was thinking either I could go all in blue to match the theme, or I could like, get a red dress and totally stand out. Like a cherry. What do you think?"

Darling, if you only knew . . .

"Um, Jess, I think the dance is actually supposed to be a winter wonderland kinda thing." I said.

Frizz turned to look at me, thin eyebrows raised. "How do you know? You're not working on decorations."

I spotted a stray flyer on the floor and bent to grab it, shoving it in Frizz's face.

_Winter Ball,_ it read. _A Spectacular Winter Wonderland!_

Frizz's mouth puckered up like she'd just eaten a lemon, her face falling. "Oh," she said. Then she brushed her hair back and took a breath. "Well, whatever. I'll just return the dresses and get new ones."

Suddenly, her face brightened. "I could wear yellow!" She screeched. "Get it? Yellow and winter? Like, the contrast?"

I shook my head.

New friends, Bella. New friends.

Frizz continued to blab about the dance and her dress and how she thought for sure Conner was going to ask her to it, and she'd say yes, but she wanted to see if Mike would ask her or not first and then I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from pointing out that Mike would probably much rather cross swords with Conner then anything.

She followed me into English, and then I remembered with a sigh, that, yes, Frizz had this class with me too.

We took seats in the back and I attempted to dissuade her yapping by pulling out a book. Catcher in the Rye again, but seriously, could you blame me?

"So Bella – I saw you with Edward Cullen this morning."

I stilled.

She couldn't honestly have the class . . .

"You showed up in his car."

"Yes," I answered curtly.

"So, what's up with that?" I finally glanced up at her. Her eyes were starved for details. "I mean, he's totally hot. But weird, you know? So did he ask you out? Did you guys _do_ anything?" She smiled suggestively.

Ugh.

Now I was craving a smoke.

I looked to the front of the room. Teacher was grading some papers and wasn't paying attention to shit.

Pssh. Fuck class.

I pulled one out and lit it quickly. Then took a long drag, blowing it out over some kid's pony tail.

A couple heads turned.

I glared.

Frizz sort of stared too, and I flicked my ash at her.

She kept staring, her mouth open like some stupid ass fish's.

Fine. You want answers, you ridiculously superficial, no brained bitch?

Gah. Here. Take 'em.

"I didn't fuck him, if that's what you're asking."

She kinda nodded, all shocked.

I mean, honestly? Did it really take this long to realize how fucking weird I was?

Apparently.

I sighed and stubbed out the cigarette on the heel of my shoe. My body ached for another one. But I'd just have to go without. Teacher was back to trying to teach her burn out students how to read or something.

My eyes slid closed, heavy with all my negativity.

I couldn't understand why I hated it all so much. Frizz, Lauren, the lot of them. It wasn't like they were bad people, not really. But even the little things, the little faults, made me so angry and tired. It made me miss old times, and cities of thrift shops and hidden concerts and neon lights and Edward.

We'd dreamed of New York City. We'd had plans.

We were gonna take the world over with our writings and songs and thoughts and stupid jokes.

Despite it all, I was determined to still live out those dreams.

Even if we were so damn lost and nervous and uncertain.

Second period slid by quickly to my relief.

I managed to shake Frizz by making a mad dash for the door as soon as the bell rang.

Third period – Spanish.

Fourth period - History.

I was in grave need of both another caffeine and nicotine fix by the time lunch rolled around. I slung my bag over my shoulder and weaved through the bodies, pushing open the doors to the cafeteria.

I scanned the tables.

My brow furrowed when I couldn't find them.

Did they – did they ditch just because of me?

But no, that was just way too . . . mean.

So, where were they?

I felt a tug on my bag. I spun around, fully prepared to deck whoever the fuck it was in the nose, when I came face to face with Edward, grinning over me.

"Don't do that!"

"Do what?"

"Do – that!"

He just gave me an amused look before taking my hand. "C'mon."

He started to drag me away, back through the doors.

"Where are we going?"

"The lot."

"Uh, why?"

"You don't honestly expect us to eat in that disgusting place any longer, do you? Cause we were only doing it so we could spy on you anyway."

"But – what – really?"

"Yeah. Now hurry up will you? I'm starving."

The butterflies erupted in my stomach as we burst through the front doors.

I was eating with them.

Not just Edward.

All of them.

Alice and Rose and Him. As a group, as we were five years ago.

And I mean, shit, what if it was awkward? What if I fucked up or said something or got too scared and just – fuck, was I self centered.

Maybe it today, maybe it was the memories, or maybe it was just Edward's warm hand around mine, but suddenly, all my stupid worries seemed just that, stupid.

Stupid and petty and miniscule compared to what we all could be.

Compared to happy, sad was nothing.

So I let him pull me across the lot toward his car where I could see Rose and Alice already. And I was gonna let us go.

I felt good.

I felt right. And calm. And just all around okay.

That was, until I saw the two faces, smiling idiotically while they sat on the car roof, one of them waving around a can of beer.

Fucking Emmett and Jasper.

* * *

that's right.

i went there.

no tell me what you think ya jerk offs.


	15. Chapter 14

heh. yeah. well. please take this pitiful, short little half ass chapter as an offering. since i can't see to just sit down and WRITE these days. to my credit, i've been busy. chorus and such. and don't roll your eyes! singing harmonies is very important business! xP

i've got stuff on fiction press now. the link's on my profile, if anyone's interested. if anyone's still reading . . .

* * *

My feet stopped moving, my mind stopped working. My mouth fell open and I stood there, staring at them staring at me.

Jasper's surfer hair all glinty gold, even in the rainy Forks weather. The way he gripped the neck of his guitar, gray eyes sweeping over me. Emmett's massive shit eating grin.

He couldn't even find the decency in him to act even just a little bit solemn for his long lost amnesiac friend.

I almost smiled.

Ass.

"Shit,"

I glanced at Edward. He ran a hand through his hair, looking from me to them, to me again. His hand felt like deadweight in mine so I shook it free.

"You didn't tell me they were going to be here." And I tried not to sound so accusatory.

But – I glanced back at them, this group of people that were almost whole – he hadn't even bothered to _tell _me.

The hand swept through the hair again and his eyes narrowed. "I didn't know."

"Oh."

He looked pissed so I grabbed for his hand again.

"Look, Bell, if this is too much, let's just go right now cause–"

"No!"

His brow furrowed and I continued. "No, just – let's stay. I want to meet, or re-meet or unite or whatever the fuck we're about to do."

He stared at my eyes hard. "You're sure?" He whispered.

"No. Yes. I just – I don't know."

"Then why –"

"Cause we have to some time!" My stomach flipped and I breathed in heavily. "And because you know and I know that we'll never really be ready for this type of healing confession sort of thing – you never are. But we have to. And Edward I'm – when I told you I was tired of running, I meant it."

He stared at me hard a moment longer.

Then sighed.

"Fine. It's not like I have much of say anyway. Just, don't let Em bite your head off."

I smiled wryly. "Sure."

His fingers tightened around mine and he let me lead us forward.

My mind strayed across the missing pieces.

All the little things we'd said and done.

The time I'd cried on Emmett's shoulder because Alice dyed my hair yellow and didn't tell me it was temporary. When Rose and Jazz and I ditched the Cullens at that lame water park they liked so much. The grass stands on our jeans from seventh grade soccer. The candy cigarettes. The camping that always ended so badly.

New beginnings of closed off lives.

Or something.

Fuck I needed to stop being so philosophical.

Abruptly, Emmett hoped off the car and strode toward us.

Rose's mouth dropped and she tried to tug him back, but he just shook her off.

The blood in my veins steeled. Went cold.

Em.

He stopped when he was a few feet in front of us – me. And then he just looked. Like, appraised me up and down.

And not the up-down look a guy gives a chick.

But the "hello-haven't-seen-you-in-a-while" one. The "getting-acquainted-again" one.

His eyes stopped at my face and stayed there for a moment.

And then he held out the hand with the beer can in it.

"You look like you could use some alcohol B."

I glanced down at the hand with the beer. And then his face – so much older and more adult and bear like then I'd ever seen.

No more pimples.

An extremely strong jaw.

Curly brown hair falling in his eyes.

Less round in the cheeks, more pointed.

More man like.

Cause, Emmett was a man.

A man who was offering me his beer.

Surreal . . . and yet . . . not.

I looked back down at it.

Then stretched my hand out and took it, bringing it to my lips and taking a long swallow.

He was grinning at me when I brought the can down, that signature Emmett grin – the one that would never change, from fourteen to nineteen to whatever the fuck teen – and he whistled.

"Sistah a little tense, eh? When you get to have such strong stamina, anyway B? I remember you and this here pansy getting all smashed after like, two of these things."

"People change Em."

"Pssh. Fat fucking chance. Bet you anything you still trip on nonexistent cracks and shit."

I glared at him and flipped him the bird cause he was being an ass and . . . well, it just felt like the right thing to do when I was with Emmett.

And also, because I was nervous.

His callousness, as much as I liked it, was also scaring the fuck out of me.

And I would not run.

Not today.

Not ever.

And not over something as stupid as forward behavior.

Emmett laughed at my finger and then poked it back down into my fist. "Don't wave that around too much. Someone'll lose an eye."

"Dick." I muttered.

He laughed harder and then suddenly lunged forward, grabbing me into a hug.

I shrieked at the feeling of the ground being lost under my feet. My eyes went wide, meeting Edward's over Em's shoulder.

"Emmett, back off –"he warned.

"Ah shut up. I've got her."

I beat at his thick soldiers while he squeezed me in a hug. "Put me down! Seriously, you asshole, I can't fucking breath!"

But he wasn't letting go and that was –

Well, at first it was really bad.

He was big and burly and I was short and bony and he was crushing me.

But then I just – well this was Emmett, and I might as well just hug the son of a bitch back.

My arms wrapped around his broad shoulders and I kinda just hung on for dear life.

After a moment or five longer, he released me. I stumbled back slightly and Emmett cocked his head toward Edward, grinning again. "She's all yours bro."

Edward rolled his eyes and snuck a worried glance toward me.

But I was fine. And he seemed to realize that too, because he relaxed.

I stared at Emmett curiously for another second, and then behind him at . . . everyone.

I walked forward hesitantly.

"Hi."

"Hello Bella." Rose said.

Alice nodded and smiled brightly.

Jasper strummed a chord and stared at me real hard.

I met his gaze and let my eyes wander over his light beard and the tattoo on his neck.

"Nice ink," I said without thinking.

His eyes widened but then he grinned. He started to play a rift, but then stopped to touch the tattoo. "Thanks."

"Um . . . what is it? Like, a dolphin?"

Fuck.

Did I really just say that?

His eyes got even wider then before and he looked over at Alice, horrified.

Guess I did.

I wanted to dig myself a hole to go die in when he spoke next.

"See Ali! I told you it fucking looked like a dolphin!"

"It does not!"

"What the fuck? It does too!"

"No, it looks like a perfectly good, elegant, and maybe a little lopsided, fairy."

I couldn't help it.

I snorted.

"What?" Jasper said.

"No, nothing." Cause God, what was with me and the word vomit today?

"What was that for? Seriously?"

"Just, look, it's – " and then I just decide to wing it. "I mean honestly. It's a fucking fairy. How gay is that?"

He looked offended. "It's for my lady."

"But you couldn't have gotten matching hearts somewhere less . . . noticeable or something?"

He shrugged and strummed the guitar again. "I guess. But grand gestures always mean the most."

"I always thought it was the thought behind the gesture." Rose chimed in.

"Eh. Whatever. If you made me a card that took you, like, four hours, and then bought me a Prada Bag, and then told me I could only pick one? Well of course I'd take the Prada." Alice said.

"I don't know. Depends if the Prada's ugly or not."

Now Alice looked offended.

Again, just, shit.

"Prada? Ugly? Bella, you just continue to astound me with your ignorance." But she was smiling as she said it.

And then Emmett laughed, and then Edward and Rose and Jazz and Alice and me – we all joined in and somehow, it was okay

Not terrible.

Not just-how-it-should've-always-been.

But somewhere right in the middle.

And though I knew something had to give sooner or later, that this compromise-stand-off-thing couldn't possibly last, I couldn't bring myself to break the spell.

So I broke the wand and dove right in, and we talked and we laughed and we just sat there, and when the bell rang for class, we got up and went and didn't skip.

Edward's hand gripped mine and I didn't feel like smoking.

Frizz made weird twitchy eye faces at me.

Lauren sneered.

Class sucked.

It was us against the world and I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out which one of us was gonna come out alive.

But to be honest –

I didn't really care.

* * *

psshh . . . who's scared of her reviewers? not moi . . .


	16. Chapter 15

hey darlins. here comes another chapter yer way! can ya tell ima dying to write some JASPER? with all his souther-ness . . .

AND my rose is a total bad ass, as you will see.

_**don't own**_

* * *

Yeah.

I know I wasn't supposed to care about anything and all, was supposed to be that fucked up bad ass that didn't need anyone or anything but –

Edward didn't meet me after my last class.

I leaned against the wall, my hands shoved in my sweatshirt pockets and my teeth digging into my lip.

Where could he be?

I mean, I knew I wasn't the only thing in his life, but he couldn't just abandon me after a day like this. So stressful. Such landmarks.

Shit.

My mind raced with the possibilities.

What if something happened? Like, the bad happen? The someone died, got mugged, got raped, happen? The accident happen?

God I hated that one. They approach you all solemn like with this look of pity in their eyes and they say that line that they always say:

"There's been an accident . . ."

Blah, blah, blah. Tears, tears, tears.

Still.

I chewed on my lip harder.

I guess it was weird, me being this worried over such a little thing. But I guess I'd come to depend on him.

My eyes scanned the halls for his bobbing head of hair again, and then widened.

It wasn't Edward.

It was Rose.

Rosalie charged through the crowd, her heels clicking determinedly against the linoleum.

Her golden hair fanned out around her head and her eyes were narrowed –

And it was like she was parting the Red Sea.

Except, the sea was a whole bunch of pale, whiny, Pacific North West teenagers.

I'd never felt more inadequate.

Why the fuck did I have to have such beautiful friends?

Sigh.

She reached me and I shrank back into the wall.

She already stood a good couple inches taller than me regularly, but in her heels, she literally towered. I felt like a dwarf.

"Bella!" Alice popped out from behind her, smiling wide. Her teeth looked shiny in the bright lights and I stared at them.

Alice stepped toward me and patted her hair gently, smoothing it back into its spikes.

"So Bella," she began."Rose and I were going to head out to Seattle after school today to do some shopping – cause God knows you can't do it here, and Port Angeles is for tourists – and we were wondering, if just maybe, if you're not doing anything, if you'd like to and all –

"Look," Rose interrupted, glancing swiftly behind her shoulder once and then facing me again. "We know that you're freaked out about your mind finally getting fixed, so we wanna take you out. A girl's day."

Alice turned to her and glared. "Way to be subtle."

Rose shrugged. "We don't have time for your polite bull. The guys are gonna be here any moment to sweep us all off our feet and take us down to the lake or something, and I seriously need to get my nails done."

"Fine, fine. So, whadaya say?" Alice asked.

She smiled at me again, all teeth and happy and sincere-ness.

"Do I really have a choice?"

"Nope." She said, popping the 'p'.

My stomach did freaky gymnast moves and I followed them out into the parking lot, grateful this wasn't Frizz, who'd have dragged me out by my toenails instead of letting me walk on my own.

I watched them walk beside each other and listened to them talk, and counted the cracks I saw in the pavement, and didn't really know what to say when Alice asked me about that paper due today in English –

And this was awkward.

As much as I remembered loving them when I was a kid, as much as I felt around them today, I just didn't know if I could do this.

Me.

Them.

Alone.

Shopping?

It was just so . . .

Not me.

Unfamiliar.

_Normal. _

We were quiet as we walked to the car. Rose's I guess, since Alice didn't seem to have a car – she'd ridden with me and Edward that day and -

Whoa.

I did a double take.

And stared.

And bah. How rude can you get?

Rose turned and looked at me, keys in hand. "What?"

I picked my jaw up from the floor. "I – nothing – just – what the fuck is up with you guys and these hot ass, expensive cars?"

Alice laughed and Rose glanced at the automobile.

She touched the red glossy finish of the BMW and shrugged again. "Don't know. Guess we got expensive taste?"

And just cause I wasn't filtering anymore: "Pretentious fuckers."

"Don't hate Bella. Not all of us can be expected to have such class." Rose smirked and slid into the driver's seat.

Alice laughed again and took my hand. "C'mon. You want shotgun or backseat?"

"Uh . . ." Were you really supposed to ask that?

"You snooze you lose! Rose! I got radio rights so turn that Aerosmith off! Now!"

"It's my car hun. Deal. With. It."

"Psshh. Whatever happened to sweet, agreeable friendships?" I asked.

Alice shrugged and we climbed in the car.

"I think those were lost once we hit, like, ten and figured out that you didn't have to say please all the time around your besties."

"And that sex was actually fun."

"No Rose, that's a little later."

I shook my head at them and then rolled down the window. Cold air rushed in, and I smiled.

"Why the fuck did it just get like fifty degrees cooler in here?"

"Uhh . . . maybe you're coming down with something –"

"Bella, my toes are about to fall off. Close it."

"But it's nice!"

"Yeah. If you like frost bite."

"You guys are such fun suckers," I mumbled, but complied with their wishes.

"Ahh," Alice sighed and propped her feet up on the dash. "Another school day finally over, another shopping trip to begin. And this time with a new partner!"

"So, what exactly are we gonna be doing?" I ventured.

"Just about everything," Rose answered. "Check out some strip joints, burn down a building or two, steal some of those posh bags from those fucking Chanel stores –"

"Rose," Alice scolded. "We're just shopping. Really Bella. Whatever Edward led you to believe, we're not that abnormal. He just likes to think we are so he can imagine he's more interesting."

I laughed. "He didn't really say all that much actually."

She and Rose exchanged a glance.

"What?"

Cause oh fuck. I knew that look.

That was the 'I know something that you don't look'. The 'Susie likes Ricky' look. The 'meaningful bit of info' look that signaled that this was to be pored over for further analysis at an upcoming sleepover.

Fuck.

"Seriously. What?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing my ass."

"Fine. It's not nothing. We're curious." Rose stared out the window as she said it, not making eye contact.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged.

"We want to know how he weaseled his way back into your life. What you guys talk about. What you do."

I hadn't expected that. Obviously. "N - nothing. Just, just stuff I guess. Look, there's really not much to tell."

They did another one of those look-things.

"How'd you meet?" Alice chirped.

"It wasn't technically a 'meet' sort of thing –"

"How though?"

"He followed me into the girl's bathroom."

"And then what?"

"Then – then, I don't know. He asked for a light and made cryptic remarks that made me cry afterwards."

Rose sighed. "Bastard."

"No, it really wasn't –"

"No Bella, it is. Edward just, he has a hard time controlling himself sometimes. He gets carried away so easily. With school, with people, you. He never gives up. I don't think he slept this past week. At all."

I was silent.

I already knew he could be . . . determined.

But I'd never really seen it as a bad thing. It was always good. It was still good. Imagine if he had just not fought for me? Let me float between my nonexistent memories?

But maybe . . . He hadn't _slept_ . . .

I'd have to talk to him about it later.

"We both hurt when he . . . it was painful both ways. I don't really think there was much of a choice there."

"Yeah. I suppose." Alice sighed.

"Still. You probably could have done without the cryptic sad shit." Rose said.

"Yeah." I chuckled a little, even though none of this was funny."That would have been nice."

We were silent again as Alice turned on the radio and twisted the dial around, searching for anything good. There wasn't so I suggested we pop in a CD.

Alice scowled at Rose. "Really Bella, I'd love to, but Rose just simply refuses to carry CDs in her car."

"Um. Why?"I asked.

"Do I have to explain every singled god damn move I make?"Rose snapped.

"No. Just the really fucking weird ones."

She snorted and then threw up her hands in exasperation. "Cause they're fucking bulky, alright! And so nineties. It's a modern, digital age sweetheart."

"I only got my iPod last year."

"How did you live?"

I shrugged. "I used a walkman."

* * *

The mall was scary.

We stepped through the gliding doors and were immediately surrounded by glittery, sparkly, blinding stores, and a water fountain and some vending machines and food courts advertising greasy tacos and Chinese dumplings. Plastic, too thin mannequins dressed in tacky dresses littered the place.

"Remind me again why we're here?"

"We're not," Alice said, walking briskly through the crowds. "We are invisible. In and out, pick up Jasper's cheap sunglasses and we can move on to the boutiques."

I nodded warily, glancing around.

I'd like to say we _were_ invisible here.

But we weren't.

People were _staring._

Rose was too beautiful – and Alice way too fairy like – and I just looked like their drug addict groupie.

Blah.

Fucking people.

"You ever thought of just buying him the fancy ones?"

"No. He hates them and can tell the difference. Don't ask me how, but he can."

We entered the shop – a little gift place, one of the ones with music boxes and porcelain statues and Alice went straight for the hat rack.

She ducked around it, and lo and behold, there was a sunglasses bracket.

Alice smiled and Rose's eye twitched and then both their nimble fingers began to pluck through the stash.

"Shit."

"Decent."

"EW."

"What about –"

"No, are you kidding me? He'd like god damn Zac Efron."

Annoyed and eager to get the hell out of here, I grabbed a pair from the top. "Ahem. Ladies: Your glasses. They are a dark chestnut brown with square frames and would compliment Mr. Whitlock's facial structure quite adequately."

"Quit being a douche Bella."Rose said.

But Alice grabbed the glasses and gave them a quick once over.

"Perfect."

"Seriously?"

"Yep. Ohhh, they're so guy like – he's always parading around in my sunglasses and he looks like _such_ a pansy – and you're right, they really _will_ compliment his jaw or whatever, he'll look so _yummy_ –"

"Okay Ali, stop. Just buy the damn things." I said, stifling laughter.

She was so excited.

And about nothing too.

I was friends with such silly people.

She skipped over to the check out desk and Rose threw an arm around my shoulders.

I looked at her and she smiled all wide, wiggling her flawlessly arched brows.

"Wanna ditch her and raid a liquor store?" She whispered.

"Yeah," I whispered back, playing along. "Grab some scotch and get all smashed in your car."

"Not my car bitch! That thing's a quality buy!"

"Shhh!"

"What are you guys talking about?" Alice called.

"Nothing!"

"C'mon Bella, now!"

"Wait, what –"

But she was dragging me out the door already.

We didn't raid a liquor store.

But we did buy a shit load of those greasy tacos, whereas we proceeded to eat without Alice, reclining in the booths and laughing too loudly.

She found us a half an hour later, angry as fuck.

But then she started to chomp down on the tacos too, sporting a new scarf from the same store she purchased Jasper's glasses from.

I tugged on it and she got all defensive. "It was pretty – so what it was under five dollars!"

We didn't make it to the boutiques.

Or Seattle.

We didn't even make it back to the car.

Like I said:

SILLY (and I didn't even care about the stares, didn't even feel the need to wax poetic about my fuckin problems, the memories, my father, my mom, Edward. I let myself forget about it all in the sparkly mall amidst the mannequins and fountains and everything.)

* * *

LAUGHTER EQUALS HAPPY. IT REDUCES STRESS AND MUSCLE TENSION, ARTHRITIS PAIN AND RELEASES POSITIVE ENDORPHINS TO YER BRAIN.

LAUGH EVERYDAY.

AND LEAVE A GOD DAMN REVIEW.


	17. Chapter 16

i know this wasn't nearly fast enough. but. eh. i'm busy. happy may.

* * *

"Oh. My. God. I am so mad at you guys."

Rose sighed and fluffed out her hair in the rearview mirror. "Alice, it's just a shirt –"

"It's a _new_ shirt!"

"It's ugly."

"WHAT –"

"You can get a new one, okay?"

"But it got on my scarf too!"Alice moaned. Her little hands clenched around a paper napkin that she rubbed insistently against the stain.

"God, I hate you guys. I hate you guys so much. I just, I can't believe this! You're so _male_ – getting tacos and, look, it just ruined the scarf-"

"You said the scarf was five dollars."I said.

"AND?"

"So. Stop having stroke."

"Bella, it might have been five dollars, but it was five dollars spent on something quality. It was a deal. This was a good find. So it might not have been the most beautiful thing in the world – I can appreciate a bargain when I see one, and it's a shame to have lost it."

I stifled a laugh. "Really Alice?"

"Yeah. God this is just a total disaster – Rose, why are you laughing?"

"Nothing," she shook her head, snorting into her hand while I erupted in giggles. "Just – nothing."

Her head snapped from Rose to me and back again, her eyes narrowed.

"BELLAHHHH! ROSE! That's not fair and you know it! You can't just leave me out of it! Especially after you guys ruined my shirt and my scarf! Not that the scarf is on the same level as the shirt or anything, but you know, it was a good buy –"

We laughed harder.

"WHAT?!" Alice shrieked, practically hopping out her seat.

"Why can't you just admit-" Laugh. "That you actually, truly –" Laugh. "Genuinely-" Laugh, laugh. "Like the scarf!"I snorted out.

Alice's jaw dropped and she looked all defensive for a second. "I – I do like it! It's kinda pretty and its cheap and-"

"Aw, Alice." More giggles. "Just cut the bull and say you love it."

"But, I don't –"

"Surrender!" I held up my imaginary sword to her throat.

"I – I –" Her face twisted and she looked conflicted. And then: "Fine! I love it okay! So just get off my back you scarf stainers!"

She humphed and crossed her arms, scowling at the dashboard while Rose and I laughed.

"She will need to change though." Rose said after a moment.

Alice's head poked up and I groaned.

"C'mon Bella. She can't go anywhere like that! It looks like she let a hobo take a dump on her!"

"Thanks," Alice muttered.

"Fine, yeah. You're driving lady. And what do you mean she can't go "anywhere"? We're going somewhere?"

Rose shrugged. "Eh. Not really."

Well. This was news to me. My eyebrows rose. "Answers. Please."

She sighed. "Yeah, we are. But it's not anything big. We just thought – um, well. Look, we don't have very many secrets from each other and when Edward told us last night that you were fixed –"

"I'm not a damn dog."

"Sorry. When he told us that you had your shit together, we wanted to do something. Like just us hanging out. Catching up. Whatever."

"Oh."

That was so . . . sweet.

My eyebrows sunk back down and I smiled slightly. I was just opening my mouth to thank her, them, whomever, when Rose spoke again.

"Except – we're hanging at the lake. It's like a bonfire – Aw Bella, don't give me that look. Surely you know about get-togethers dear?"

"Don't go there Rose. Don't even."

She snickered. "It's really nothing Bella."

"I don't know . . ."

"You'll be fine."Alice interjected. "Just as soon as we get you out of those clothes . . ."

I froze up. "If it's casual then I'm fine."

"You can dress nice and it can still be casual."

"It's a lake Alice."

"So?"

"So? So I'll most likely fall in watery mud and ruin everything!"

She sighed in disgust. "Party pooper!"

"Yeah Bella! You wet blanket!"

"Rose, stop mocking me."

"Honey, it's what I do best."

* * *

"BOYS! We're home!"

"Alice, shut the fuck up. We're trying to forget about you." said Emmett, staring at the TV and holding a game controller.

"Yeah, and you're ruining the video game." Added Edward.

I stopped in the door, trying to place the feeling that swelled in my stomach and bubbled up in my throat as I looked at him.

When was the last time I'd seen him? Lunch?

I did a quick mental calculation. It'd been seven hours.

Big whoop.

I bit my lip and watched him furrow his brow in concentration. His hair stuck up and his shirt was rumpled.

Did those few missed hours matter to me?

Emmett jumped up suddenly and punched the air in triumph while Edward cursed, his head in his hands.

Yeah. They really did.

Alice pouted and stomped her foot. "Jazz. I got your shades."

Jasper grabbed the third game controller."Baby, later."

She turned to me and sighed dejectedly. "I feel so unloved."

I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. "It's okay sweetheart. Just remember that they have coodees."

Alice seemed a little surprised, her eyes widening as she looked up at me. But then she relaxed and hugged me back.

"Okay then, we're gonna go get pretty. See you guys in an hour." Rose yelled, and she grabbed my hand and started to drag me up the stairs.

"Hey, hey, fuck, seriously, wait, wait um, can someone help me here?"

"Just go with it Bell!"

Edward. I smiled at his voice and he grinned back lazily.

"But –"

"Just go," he repeated and gave me a look that said, well. It said it'd be alright.

It said I'd be fine.

That I wouldn't run.

I didn't even know I was scared of that.

Alice's room was the same as the last time I'd been in it but – well. I was different.

I stopped in the doorway and looked around as Rose flopped onto the bed and Alice marched into the closet.

This was new paint. We'd drawn faces on her walls when we were little and expletives towards her prick boyfriend in sixth grade. The beanie cushions she'd had forever. There was a stain on one of them from where I'd spilled ketchup.

Huh.

What do ya know.

I sat on the floor by the bed and watched Alice do her thing.

"Rose, wear that jean skirt and this top. You can't wear your heels . . . hmm . . .okay, what do you think of these boots?"

Rose lifted her head and gave them a once over. "Yep. I'm game."

Alice smiled and threw it all at her.

"Now Bella . . ."

I glared.

She stared right on back.

"A skirt Bella."

"Holy fuck no. Not to a bonfire by a gooey lake. Jeans."

"Why are you so difficult!?"

"Me?!"

Alice's eyes rolled. "Fine then. You can have the jeans. But I do the rest. Shirt, makeup, hair. And I guess you can keep the Docs again." She sighed. "I have to let you have at least some originality."

The final product actually didn't hurt so bad to look at.

I was expecting big gobs of glitter on my eyelids and a frilly shirt and some crazy elaborate prom hair. But no.

Alice did pull and fuse with my hair for ten minutes though – pulled out a straightening iron and then only used it for my bangs, worked some sort of gel through the strands that made it all curly, combing only certain parts.

And then she scowled at my bra.

"What?"

"Bella, really. You're what, seventeen, eighteen? You need better lingerie dear."

"Ah, fuck off."

And then she actually wanted to _polish_ my Docs.

But still – I guess it was worth it.

My hair looked very pretty, volumized and shiny, and she had be in a deep blue tank top thing. Make up was light, and I felt good.

"Phew. What a relief. I thought I'd end up looking like you for a second."

"Bella, you can't handle the responsibility of looking like me. You wouldn't be able to shake off the advances of the male population for your life."

"BURN." Rose yelled.

"Why is that even a bad thing?"

"Bella, don't ask me questions I don't have clever answers too."

"Hey –"

"Shut up, both of you and tell me how I look." Rose interrupted again.

We turned to her and she stuck a pose, her hand to her head and her face all tilted back and dramatic. "Well muffins?"

"Do you really care?" I asked.

"Um, duh."

"Well then if my word is that valued, you look hideous."

"Assface."

Alice smiled and pushed a bit of hair off her forehead. "You look perfect Rose. Now leave so I can prepare in private."

My brow furrowed. "Why can't we just go out at the same time?"

Rose sighed and left, apparently already clear on this area.

Alice continued. "I need time away from you all."

"To what?"

"Dress."

I tried that on for size.

Alice needed private time.

To get herself dressed.

After she had treated Rose and I like cloths mannequins.

I wasn't following.

"Um . . . But don't you want our opinions and . . . shit like that?"

That _was_ normal right? The whole "how do I look" thing?

"No." She smiled at me. "Look, it's like, I need to be in the zone. To create the perfect ensemble, to get it _just right_ – I _have_ to be alone. I have to find my happy place. And besides, why in the world would I ask your opinion of an outfit? Really Bella."

She laughed and then began to walk around the room, lighting incense.

I stood there for a second and stared, and then left the room, shaking my head.

So strange.

I touched my palms to the banister and leaned over, watching my shiny hair swish from side to side and listening to the noises from downstairs. Gunshots and fake little animated screams.

I imagined the gushing green blood and frowned.

Boys.

But the little webbed, undusted corners in this immaculate house called to me, so I slipped down the hallway.

Yeah.

I didn't want to go down just yet.

My brain felt clogged with fun and light, and I was beginning to forget the dark. And that wouldn't do. If I wasn't at least aware of the possibility of . . .

Hurt.

Well. It couldn't be good.

So my eyes glued themselves to the white carpet that I was probably tracking dirt on, and let myself go all melodramatic.

Today was good. So good. Today was the kind of day I hadn't had in years. Laugh and happy and worry and silly, and overall, confusion.

All the lines smudged away, coloring outside the neatly drawn pictures, breaking my sharpened pencils.

I almost panicked a few times. A lot of times. I came so close to just breaking or telling them to please leave me alone but I –

I held it in and swallowed it back.

I stopped shuffling my feet on the carpet and ran a finger across a hanging tapestry.

Being honest, it wasn't that I was really scared.

More tentative.

It shouldn't be this easy. I guess me having doubts was the hard part though. It was my fault anyway.

Not theirs.

Too sweet. Too strange.

Not Edward's –

My hand froze on the tapestry.

I stared down the hallway and watched the wall closely.

Rosalie had said something in the car that afternoon. Something about him going too far.

Too far . . .

He wouldn't leave me alone the first week. All the following and the glaring and the notes.

Narrowed eyes and that first night that hurt for me to think about.

All because he'd chased me, opened up – and I didn't even realize how important that was at the time – that he'd opened up to try to get me back.

I couldn't decide if that was just stupid or self sacrificing or both or just . . .

He really was persistent wasn't he?

My brow furrowed in thought. And then, how much of that had driven me back?

"Bell?"

I spun around.

Edward stood at the end of the hall, leaning against the wall.

"Hey," my voice was gravely and I cleared my throat.

"Hey. Whatcha doing back here?"

Just having more startling epiphanies. "Nothing."

A little crease appeared in the middle of his forehead and he ran his hands through his hair. His eyes flickered over me.

"You can't lie for shit Bell. What the hell are you doing?"

"Later. Can I just tell you later?"

"Why not now?"

"Cause I'm – I don't know Edward. I don't, I just don't know!" I threw my hands up and tugged at my hair.

So touchy Bella.

But it was all so frustrating!

So ... god, I don't know. I was questioning him and it felt all wrong, but I just couldn't stop picking and analyzing for my life. It wasn't even like it was his fault.

No, of course not.

But just knowing that maybe he wasn't just my savoir . . .

That he made mistakes . . .

Just . . .

I turned into the tapestry and hid my face from him like a child.

"Okay, okay." I heard him murmur.

The tapestry scratched my face as it rubbed at my skin.

My eyes squeezed shut and I thought of anything.

"Hey,"

My nose was raw cause this thing was fucking rough like all hell.

"Bell, look at me."

I bit my lip.

"Look at me."

I didn't.

"What the fuck are you doing Bella? I know this has been a good day. Don't try to fucking tell me it hasn't. I've seen you laughing and smiling and fucking hugging Alice. So what the fuck it this? Are you crying? Jesus Christ Bella, cut the shit."

"I'm not crying asshole."

Asshole.

Not crying.

Dealing with my life.

You didn't save me all the way.

My feet are still in the water.

"Fuck," I murmured and pressed my head harder into the god damn tapestry.

The silence hung between us and I didn't look at him. I heard the floor creak as he shuffled his feet. He stopped and then sighed.

"Hey," he said softly and his hand was suddenly touching my bare shoulder.

I jumped and tried to shrug him off but he just pressed his fingers firmer down on my skin. I settled and shuddered. His fingers burned.

"Hey," he repeated. "I'm sorry. That was mean."

I snorted softly. "You sound like we're seven."

"Yeah, well. It worked didn't it? You're talking to me nicely . . . sort of."

I shrugged.

His arm moved up and down too.

"You're right. It was mean. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He took his hand back and I missed it . . . and that was stupid.

"Ya wanna turn away from that wall now?"

I sighed into it but didn't turn around.

He was quiet and still for a second before I felt two arms wrap around my waist.

I gasped and what the fuck was he doing?

You don't touch me like that Edward, you just don't and -

Strong and solid and encircling, the warmth of his breath against my hair.

I went all limp and stiff at the same time as he turned me to face him.

He looked as frazzled as I was, eyes bright and nervous and what just happened.

His eyes locked with mine and I held his gaze.

He cleared his throat. "Well. At least I can see your face now right?" He chuckled at little.

"Yeah." No.

No.

No.

No.

His forehead crinkled and he raked a hand through his hair, looking up at the ceiling.

"Sorry, again."

I wanted to grab his hand or . . . something so instead I just said: "It's alright. Edward I'm – no, _I'm_ sorry. For not being able to talk right now. For being so . . . weird."

He gave me a funny look. "It's not your fault."

Silly.

Of course it was.

It always was.

"So you agree I'm weird?" I made my lips turn up into a smirk and lifted an eyebrow.

I didn't really care to know how faked this looked, as long as he bought it.

Just now had done . . . things to me.

Edward looked hesitant for a second, his eyes boring into me intense and unnerving.

I stared back, begging for him silently to play along.

Please.

For me.

I don't want to face it.

"Nothing about you is normal Bella."

And though he smiled while saying it, I caught the darker meaning, the one hiding in the back of his eyes and on the edges of his grin.

And with a start, I realized just exactly what I'd done.

I ran.

_Fuck._

* * *

what would ya guys say if i wrote A LOT shorter chapters, but got em up quicker? xJCManiak12x . . . fire away bb. heh


	18. Chapter 17

heh. a lot of you said you actually prefer the longer chapters. hmm. i'm just gonna try for quick over all. xD NOTE: i wrote this up real fast before i read the reviews. so next chapter will be longer. this i just felt needed to be by itself.

don't own.

* * *

I stared up at him, gaping like a fish.

He didn't look disappointed. He just kept smiling that off smile.

"I- I-"I stuttered. "I- Edward, god, I don't, I'm so sorry –"

He sighed, and the smile slipped.

"Don't Bella. I don't want to talk either. Not now."

"Oh." And for whatever reason, my eyes burned with moisture again.

Fuck was I a pussy.

And so self absorbed.

I blubbered some more about selfishness and hating and sorry and stupid and then he wrapped his arms around me.

I sucked in a breath quick and fast and then I couldn't speak, so I just put my head on his shoulder and exhaled the air shakily.

The words bubbled again and I opened my mouth. "Edward, I, just, want you to know that –"

He sighed. "Shut up."

"Okay."

His fingers pressed gently into my back and I fisted a handful of his shirt. My mouth stayed open and my eyes squeezed and a few tears slipped out. A little wet spot on his shoulder.

"Stupid," he mumbled.

"Yeah." My voice broke around the word.

"Shouldn't have . . ."

Shouldn't have what?

Shouldn't have a lot of things.

Like said that and did this and ignored and trusted her and me and me me me.

Too much me.

Him.

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

He nodded his chin into my head and kissed my hair, the feel of his lips.

His hands pushed once more firmly into my back and then slid away.

He rested his forehead against mine.

I found his eyes under our hair and wrinkles and tears, and then the green didn't even matter.

It didn't matter that I'd forgot or he was scared and stubborn or that there was hurt.

It mattered that he was him and me I.

It only mattered that I had screwed up now, not then and not soon.

He didn't smile lopsidedly or say anything witty or comforting.

He didn't joke and he didn't pull away.

He looked back into muddy green brown eyes and lifted his hands again.

The pads of his thumbs swept under my eyes and he brushed back my hair.

I pecked at the wet spot on his shirt and fingered the downy curls at the back of his neck.

My eyes closed and I let myself feel through my fingers.

They trailed down across his jaw and neck, tracing his Adam's apple, feeling the hot dry of him.

His hands rested on my shoulders, heavy.

Mine continued south, to the top of his chest and his sternum, pushing into him, wanting under his skin so I could bury myself there.

My brow furrowed and I bit my lip.

I think I just realized something.

"You're gonna wanna clean up your face Bell." He whispered. "You've got black guck all over."

"I think I –"

But I didn't know what to say.

I couldn't even open my eyes.

"Okay. I'll clean up."

"Quickly. We're gonna go real soon."

"But Alice is still –"

"Alice is a freak. And it wouldn't be the first time we left her."

I scrunched my eyes closed tighter.

"I don't wanna move."

His chest rumbled as he chuckled. "Emmett will give you shit if you go downstairs like this. And so will Rose."

I shrugged.

"Open your eyes. You look really fuckin silly right now."

I opened them.

Now he was smiling. A real not off smile.

"Hi."

"Hi. Go clean and get your ass in my living room."

I gave him a smiled. "Okay."

He lifted his hands from my shoulders and turned to leave, but then hesitated.

He looked once toward the stairs and then me and then me some more and then he leaned in close close too close to me and pressed his lips to my mine.

I gasped and shuddered and shivered and then he was gone, leaving me in his faintly grinning wake.


	19. Chapter 18

i lurv ya all. really. NOW LOOK AT THIS SHINY SPARKLY CHAPTER. LOOK HOW LONG IT IS. LOOK HOW FAST I CHURNED IT OUT. LOOK AT ITS BEAUTIFUL LITTLE BABY FACE AND ITS CHUBBY CHEEKS.

**don't own.**

* * *

Alice fretted over my makeup for a bit, dabbing and applying and complaining.

I just sat back and smiled.

She tsked at me one last time and nodded to herself. "Alrighty. This is as good as it gets doll. Now get out already."

I smiled wider up at her. "Thanks Alice."

She peered down at me, a look of slight, but happy confusion on her face. "You're very welcome. Especially since I'm not gonna make you tell me exactly why it was smudged in the first place. Unless, of course, you want to . . . "she trailed off.

I just kept on smiling.

She sighed. "I am defeated. Go wow somebody please."

I stood and rolled my eyes. "As if you're that good."

"Blah blah blah. I do not understand these negative comments. Tell everyone I'll be down in five."

"Minutes or hours?"

She glared and shoved me out.

I didn't pause at the stairs this time. My feet stomped down them gracelessly, all a haze of lips and what's next?

I skidded to a halt in the doorway of the living room. It looked exactly how it should – Emmett and Jasper and Edward on the couch with their video games and Rose flipping through a magazine in the armchair – and yet –

It was weird.

Shouldn't everything be different now?

Jasper threw me a smile and Emmett grunted and Edward did a weird look thing that only I (and maybe Rose) caught.

I sat down at the foot of the couch and messed around with my laces while watching them play when all I really wanted to do was stare at Edward and memorize the bump in his nose and the freckle on his temple.

Ugh.

Suddenly, Jasper shoved a controller into my hands.

I looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Play."

"Um . . . no thank you?"

"No. Really. I'm getting my ass whipped here."

"But I can't!"

"It's easy Bell." Edward said. "A for shoot, the joystick to move."

"That's it?"

"Yep." Emmett said.

Rose shook her head across the room at me woefully.

I eyed the controller warily and then picked it up. "Watch me die the first thirty seconds."

"You don't die, you explode."

"That's the same thing."

"Nope."

"What the fuck Emmett?"

He shrugged. "It's true. I ain't ever dying. When my time comes, I'll just blow myself up."

I stared at him.

Edward shrugged. "I told you he hasn't changed."

I snorted and gripped the controller tighter.

"Alright. Game on. Let's go."

Edward smirked and Emmett slapped him a five high behind my back.

And somebody pressed start.

I shrunk back into the side of the couch.

Ten minutes later and I wasn't dead.

I was beating them.

In fact, Emmett was already dead - ahem, blown up – which only left me and Edward.

My teeth dug into my lower lip and I squiggled my but on the carpet as my thumb hit the A button furiously.

"Die, die, die, die," I chanted.

Something nudged into my back and I yelped.

"Don't do that! I'm trying to concentrate!"

"Whole point."

"Cheater!"

Die, die, _die_.

He did it again, and this time the controller slipped from my fingers.

My little green man stopped firing and dodging. His gun arm fell away from his chest and to his side, and I shrieked as the blast hit him.

There was one moment of intense bright light and wriggling bodies.

And then he exploded into a shower of green guts.

"Shit!" I screeched.

I turned around and hit at his leg. "You asshole Edward! My little alien dude just – just died –"

"Exploded –" Emmett interrupted.

"Shut up. It's dead. And I lost. And it's your fault."

He shrugged and grinned. "I couldn't stand to see you win. Besides, nobody wins their first game. If you had, it would have disrupted the natural order of –"

"Rematch."

"What?"

"I demand a rematch."

His puzzled face settled into one of determination. "Deal."

* * *

I crossed my arms and smiled smugly as Edward returned from the kitchen, bowl of chips in hand.

He glared and sat down on the couch slowly.

I reached for a chip to munch on, happily enjoying my victory.

He just scowled some more, this time down into the bowl.

"You know, these things are horrible for you. Do you have any idea how much Trans fat is in just one chip –"

I crunched hard down on one, chewing in his face.

"Yum, yum, yum."

His face twisted.

"That's disgusting –"

"It's delicious."

"Ah, don't mind him Bella." Emmett said. "He's just pissed cause you bet him and his dick shrank back five inches."

Edward rolled his eyes. "Where's Alice?"

"Where do you think?" Rose answered.

Jasper sighed and looped an arm around my shoulders.

I froze and then relaxed.

Just Jasper.

And Jasper was cool, so I was cool. If not still slightly weirded out by . . . everything.

I peeked at Edward from the corner of my eye.

And – oh shit. Well. Someone _wasn't_ cool.

His hands were clenched into fists and he was glaring even more.

My eyes widened.

"Alice! If you don't get your little pixie ass down here this very minute, I swear I'll do something we'll both regret!" Jasper yelled.

"Yeah! And it's fucking dark out! C'mon already!" Emmett added.

"Wait!"She called.

"Fuck no! Get down here!"

"Just one more minute, I swear it this time –"But Jasper was already jumping up from the couch and taking the stairs two at a time.

He disappeared from view.

I heard him barge through her door.

Alice screamed and the next thing I knew he was carrying her back down, biting and kicking.

"Jasper Whitlock Hale, put me down this instant or so help me God I'll –"

He put her down, and she gripped his arm for supported as she dutifully tried to flatten her wild hair.

He smiled chivalrously and tipped his imaginary hat at her. "My lady."

He turned to us.

"Alright folks. If everyone's ready, I think I'd like to get the fuck out of here."

I looked at Edward and he grinned, knocked out his sullen mood.

I grinned back.

"Finally."

Emmett shot up and beat at his chest like a fucking deranged ape, howling. He ran out of the room and towards the door, and we could hear him outside, his noise fading somewhat as he distanced himself.

"C'mon, you jerk offs! We've got a fucking celebration to commence!" He yelled back, and I laughed, following.

We all crammed into the Volvo. Well, really, Alice, Rosalie and I crammed into the Volvo. Edward and Emmett got the driver's and passenger's seats and Jasper sat in the middle console thing.

I frowned as Rose elbowed me in the side and Alice craned her neck in front of my face to redo her makeup in the rearview mirror.

"What the hell kind of misogynistic shit is this?"I said, gesturing around the backseat.

The boys stopped talking and Emmett shrugged, turning and taking in our positions. "Face it. Women are smaller than men. It's where you belong sweetheart."

"Fuck you."

He chuckled. "Easy there."

Alice sighed and pawed through her bag. "Rose, do you have an extra comb?"

"Don't you have a brush?"

"Yeah, but it's no good. I need a comb."

Jasper's hand appeared, shooting out backwards over his headrest and poking me in the eye. Ow.

"Here darlin'." He drawled.

Alice beamed and took the comb, leaning across me to peck him on the cheek before running it through her now curly spikes. "Thanks honey."

I gagged.

"Bitter Bella." Alice sang, still messing around with the comb.

"No alterations in this car."I grumbled.

"Nope. I veto it." Edward said.

Ugh.

Yeah right.

"You can't veto it. It wasn't even up for discussion. No alterations."

"My car. I rule here, hence my right to veto. Alterations are allowed. Bitter Bella."

He smirked at me over his shoulder and he was definitely looking way too beautiful and I sort of really wanted to try that kissing thing again. And I was also glad he wasn't making a big deal about this. He wasn't being all tense and looking at me all funny. He was acting normal. He was acting like it hadn't even happened –

Wait.

My smile faltered.

Was that a bad thing?

Or a good one?

"Envious Edward."

"Envious of what?"

"Yeah. Edward's only got like, everything." Emmett said.

"Um. Good point. Never mind."

Emmett put on some loud, ska-ish music and Jasper was all cool and collected while Alice jabbered in his ear, and Rosalie just flipped through her magazine some more.

And me?

I watched Edward be confused.

He locked his eyes with me in the rearview mirror and squinted his eyes.

I turned away, picking intently at the fraying edge of my tank top.

I still felt his stare.

I shifted uncomfortably and shuffled my feet.

I shouldn't have let the fight go that easily. I grimaced. No, I really shouldn't have. Should have just continued it or something. The bickering.

Ugh. But I just couldn't now.

Right now I felt myself _doubting_ him. And I desperately wanted to undo that, take it back or . . . something. But it was too late.

God.

How fuckin _morbid_Bella. Doubting and too late. You're such a fucking sour pussy. So what if he wasn't acting all lovey dovey now – I mean, god! I didn't even want that!

My face heated around the cheeks slightly and my stomach twisted.

Right?

I glanced up at him. He was focusing on the road, hands on the wheel, all relaxed and perfect. The sun was nearly down and the last rays lit his hair like fire and made little shadows under his eyes. He scowled at Emmett and argued with him over music. He wanted to play The Clash. Emmett opted for Sublime.

I bit my lip.

Did I really want him to turn around and call me darling?

Honey?

Sweetheart?

Act like Jasper and Alice and kiss each other on the cheeks and get pansy gay tattoos symbolizing our devotion?

It made my stomach roll. Not in a bad way, but not in a good way either.

I drummed my fingers across my leg, feeling the tips hit my knee in staccato taps.

I just – I didn't know.

I'd just have to see why he'd done it. Assumptions only ever drug me down. So getting the truth could only be for the best.

I'd just have to – as much as it would hurt my pride to do so – ask him why he did it . . . and it would be better.

I hoped.

I sighed and slumped back into my seat, all tired suddenly.

Yeah. Thinking was such exertion.

"Hey, how much further?" I asked.

Jasper craned his neck around to look at me. "Not long. I'd say five minutes."

I nodded. "Cool. Who brought the marshmallows?"

"What?"

"Um, the marshmallows?"

No one said anything.

"You guys did bring marshmallows right?"

"Um . . ." Emmett said. "I brought protein bars?"

"Ew."

"Muscles Bella. That's where it's at."

"Emmett, they're gross."

"I think they're sexy." Rose cut it.

"Yeah, but you're obliged to. He's your boyfriend."

Everyone in the car froze.

Rose glared at him.

Emmett shrank into his seat.

I looked between the two of them, and all I saw was tension and turned up noses.

What the hell?

I looked to Alice and waved a hand at them, a questioning look on my face.

"Uh, well, technically, they're not together. They're taking a break."

Rose hmmphed and blew at her nails.

"Uh. Why?"

"Bella, I wouldn't –"

"Because Emmett's a fucking pig. He has no respect or restraint or any other fucking good quality an adult should possess. You know he's failing a class? In college!"

Emmett rolled his eyes. "Look, just cause I can vote, doesn't mean I have to be legal."He smirked and Rose scowled.

"You still play with transformers Emmett!"

"So?"

"See?!"

"Oh shut it princess. You're just mad cause ya ain't getting any of this," Emmett pumped his hands back and pushed his crotch forward, waggling his eyebrows.

She sneered. "That thing? Please Emmett. How can I miss it if it was barely there in the first place?"

"Burn man. Let it go." Edward said.

"Um, can we get back to the marshmallows?" I glanced back between Rose and Emmett, where the atmosphere was now . . . less than friendly.

"I didn't bring them." Alice said. "And neither did Rose. Jazz?"

"I wasn't aware we were supposed to."

I gasped, partly in outrage - cause really, who fucking forgets the marshmallows at a campfire? - and also in an attempt to maybe possibly help prevent the lover's spat that threatened to explode in the car at any second and splatter Emmett parts everywhere. On Edward's leather upholstery no less.

"How could you Jazz?!"

"Darlin', when you're in college, ya forget about the basics sometimes."

"Always remember your roots cadet. Jesus. It's like I don't know you at all."

He smirked. "In a way, ya don't."

My eyes widened.

"Just like in a funny way, I know nothing about you either Miz Bella. Good thing we've got some campfire bounding time, huh?"

I nodded thickly (that "knowing" comment had freaked the fuck out of me for a second there). "Yeah. But no marshmallows."

"God Bella, we can live without the god damn marshmallow! They're just sugar and food coloring!" Rose snapped.

I scowled. "You're missing the point. Not having marshmallows – it defeats the whole purpose."

"I fail to see your logic. Really."

"Fine. _Really_. Do we at least have a radio?"

"Edward keeps one in his trunk."

"Thank God."

* * *

It was totally dark by the time we finally got there. I jumped down from the car. I was expecting pavement. What I got was muddy dirt. I stumbled and fell forward.

I gasped, hands outstretched to absorb the impact . . .

But it never came.

Someone caught me.

They chuckled.

"Careful." Edward whispered.

"Oh. Sorry." I didn't move.

He was warm and solid and it was dark and I wanted to kiss him again but no, I can't, and I jumped away.

He grabbed my hand back and led me behind the others down a little foot worn path.

Jasper led the way, flashlight in hand. Rosalie had one too, and so did Alice, and they swung them over the pathway and into the forest.

"Where's our flashlight?" I whispered.

"We only have three. And why are you whispering?"

I hadn't realized I was. It was just so dark, so quiet except for the night sounds and our voices . . .

"I don't know. It seems right I guess."

"Okay."

He walked and I stumbled down the path for a bit. I swallowed, wondering why he wasn't saying anything. Why I wasn't saying anything.

Damn. Fuck. Well. This was awkward.

I stepped on a stick and the crack was loud in the loaded silence.

I cringed. "Sorry."

He stepped down hard, and the resounding crack was even louder than mine.

I stopped and our hands pulled and then grasped back together.

He looked at me and I looked back. "Can't let you out do me."He said.

I laughed once softly and pulled him along.

Then faked a stumbled so I could lean into him.

Don't know why I did it. It just – well, I do. I wanted to be near him.

His fingers twitched around mine and then he removed his hand.

I blinked stupidly.

Um. Damn. Talk about rejection.

_Fuck._

But then his hand teetered up to elbow, and then curled under it tentatively to wrap around my waist.

I gasped.

He jerked away slightly. "God, I'm sorry Bella, I just, I'm sorry –"

"No,"

"Look, I never meant to . . . invade anything, cause I know you're . . . fragile or . . . fuck, whatever, I just –"

I leaned up and smacked my lips onto his.

He froze and I stubbornly pressed harder, moving gently against his mouth, finally . . . feeling.

It wasn't anything like I remembered. What I remembered was weird and searching. He was always too hard and my braces would always clank against his teeth and lips, and it was all so confusing.

But now I didn't have metal train tracks on my teeth. And I wanted to kiss him, and I just wasn't going to worry about anything right then.

He was soft and warm and a little chapped, and sending tingly tingles from my lips and down to my toes. One of his hands melted and wrapped around my hip, pulling me forward a bit. I sighed into him, feeling his chest against mine and his feet shuffle. My fingers tiptoed up his arms and around to his shoulders, his ears, his hair, needing to be close, close, cause we were always so . . . out of reach. I tugged at a strand, pulling him down. His mouth opened in surprise and I licked at his lip, and then we were deeper in, lapping and caressing and moving. I shuddered and pushed myself impossibly close, nearer to him than ever with these hot breaths and sloppy tongues. So full of Edward, Edward, and the dark chill of the night and the heat radiating from my cheeks and the rough of his jeans and the pinecone I'd just stepped on and Edward.

Closer, closer.

My feet twisted as his stopped abruptly. He stumbled, and with a gasp, he broke away, and then I was furrowing my brow up at him -

And then we were falling backwards.

I shrieked short and loud.

He hit the ground with a thud, absorbing the impact.

And I fell right on top of him.

The hand in his hair was still there, pinned between his head and the ground, and I snagged it away, clutching my finger.

"Oh, God, ow, fuck," I mumbled. "Sorry. Sorry." I blushed hotly.

And fuck did my finger hurt. I whimpered quietly and cradled it to my chest.

I peeked at Edward, and he was shaking his head, picking leaves out of his hair. He grimaced and his eyes got flickery.

Did he . . . was that okay?

The kiss?

I studied his face. The lines in his forehead. Tense.

"You okay?" I whispered.

He nodded. "Yeah."

"But I just, you fell, and then I fell on top of you and –"

"I'm fine Bella."

"Oh. If you're sure."

He nodded again.

He didn't say anything else.

I peered at him closely, trying to catch a hint of green in the dying dead light.

He wouldn't even look at me.

So then I got angry.

I mean, honestly. What the fuck?

He'd kissed me. I'd been cool, he'd been cool. I kissed him. And now he's all touchy and avoiding like. Granted, the kiss had been more then . . . well, fuck, it'd been more then I'd ever felt before, but fucking still.

It was too late for this shit pretty boy.

I openly glared at him.

It took him a second.

"Um. What?" He mumbled.

"You know what."

He stared at me blankly.

Fine.

Fuck him.

I shoved off of him and stood up shakily.

I tried to stomp away.

I swayed and fell into a tree.

He snickered.

"Fuck you." I spat, and then pushed off the tree.

I was done with this.

If he was going to be all fucking weird about kissing, then, well, call me out.

I had no interest in love games that only ended in hurt.

"Bella. Wait."

And like the moron I was, I did.

Because his voice sounded so conflicted and real right then, and because I'd just said love games.

Love?

"It's just – "He sighed, and I pictured him running a hand through his hair. "You had that thing earlier, by the tapestry. And you were sad and being . . . fucking stupid. And you wouldn't tell me why, and, it was like you wanted me to pretend or something and – Jesus, will you fucking look at me? It's hard enough to saying this to your face."

I turned.

He was standing now and his hands were in his hair.

"You just, it was like you were begging me to play along with this pretend happy façade. It didn't sit right. At all. Like you wanted me to lie with you – but to yourself."

"That still doesn't-"

"No! Everything, that was wonderful. I just, I want to know that you do the things you do cause you want to do them, because you trust me, and not because you think this will be easiest. That kissing me isn't some sort of . . . distraction."

I stared at him for a while.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

He looked . . . nervous.

"Is this just you being insecure?"

His head shot up. "What? No!"

"I think it is."

"Fuck Bella, you think me wanting the truth is me being fucking insecure –"He began, his jaw locking and his eyes shinning with anger.

"No, that's not what I mean. I'll be honest. I'll tell you. It's just fucking pathetic shit anyway. Just not right now."

He looked at me.

He didn't look away.

"It's just that, I mean, c'mon, why the _fuck_ would I kiss you if I was looking for the easy way out? What the fuck Edward? You know that this complicates and adds to things, and you know I'm not that stupid as to dive into something like that just for the sake of saving my own ass -"

I stopped.

And gaped and closed my mouth.

Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck shit.

I had dove into a lot of things to save myself. Especially since meeting Edward.

The ocean. Just, talking to him. Starting things I never even attempted to finish.

I looked at the distance between our feet and all the sticks and moss and grass.

Too much, too far. I took a step closer and so did he.

"I'm, I'm sorry." I whispered. Not even quite sure why. I took a breath. A shuddering, chest rattling breath. "I really am . . . really . . . am trying not to run."

I sighed and my fingers twitched. I wanted a fucking cigarette.

"I know. Look, no, _I'm_ sorry. Cause you're right. I have to . . . trust you more."

He looked at me regretfully and shook his head. "_Fuck_," he murmured.

"And I like kissing you." I said. "I like you. That wasn't -"

"How can you just . . . say that?"

"How can _you_?"

"But I haven't."

"But You will."

"I'm really . . . confused." He confessed.

"Tell me about."

He quirked an eyebrow.

I shuffled my feet.

The wind whistled through the trees and I shivered.

"It's just," he said abruptly. "I've always been able to . . . read people. Read them well. Pick up on motives and emotions. But with you . . . Bella, as well as I know you, I've don't think I've ever quite understood you."

I nodded slowly.

"Does that make sense?" He asked, and he lifted a hand to grip at the back of his neck.

I shrugged. "Yeah. I guess so. It does. I've never really – you make me nervous. Sometimes."

He frowned.

Then sighed.

"Jesus," He laughed a little. "Just listen to us . . ." He laughed again.

I grinned slightly and shook my head.

"Yeah. Christ. I know."

"Fucking pansies ." He mumbled, still chuckling.

"Well, that's just you really. I'm pardoned."

"On what terms."

"I'm a chick."

"Um. So what?"

"So we cry over shit. A lot."

"You know you don't believe that mushy woman bit."

"I believe it when convenient." I stated.

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

I scoffed at him. "Fine. Whatever."

We stared at each other for a few beats before he just full out grinned and shook his head.

Silly.

"We'll talk about it later." He said. "Promise me, okay?"

"I promise. You want to pinky swear too?"

"Nah. Words are stronger the actions."

"I think it's the other way around."

"Whatever."

We walked back onto the pathway.

"We, um, better be getting back."I mumbled, suddenly embarrassed.

We'd been gone a while.

"Yeah."

He didn't reach out and grab my hand again.

He didn't even smile.

But I guess that was alright.

We were walking this road together at least.

In confused, awkward, contented silence, conversation, no hands and yes lips, down the twisted path to the lake.

Blah blah blah.

Kiss.

* * *

c'mon boo. this deserves something. this deserves LURV. or else i'll withhold the next chapter.

that is correct. i am not above blackmailing.


	20. Chapter 19

**__**

don't own.

shit. man. well. sorry? i've just been preoccupied man. reading The Lazy Yet Discerning Ficster - and if you don't know what that is, WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN? GET OUT FROM UNDER THE ROCK. and looking at Rpatz photos . . . yumz. and, like, going all psycho over my

**INDIE TWIFIC NOMINATION**

ahahah. that's rite. you heard me. they said i'd never make it. BUT YOU LIKE ME. YOU REALLY LIKE ME!

and this chapter. might not be up to par. i dunno. tell me what you think guys.

* * *

I gaped at the burning, crackling fire, blazing big and red, merrily scorching a pile of hearty logs. Tiny red sparks - like fireflies – drifted upwards toward the starry sky before fading into the dark above your heads.

I got control of my slack tongue and said: "How'd you guys do that so fast?"

Everyone looked up. My eyes skated quickly across their faces – searching for . . .

I guess any sign of them knowing that Edward and I had just had . . . a moment – and landed on Jasper. He held a block of wood in one hand and Swiss army knife in the other.

He was carving.

I grinned slightly in amusement, and he smirked, tipping his head.

"Jasper was a boy scout, remember?" Rose said.

"Huh. Yeah. In fact I do."

Jasper just smirked wider at me. And I got the feeling he wasn't going all grin-ny over my compliment of his fire configuring skills this time.

His beady little eyes slid slyly between Edward and me.

Well. Wasn't he a nosy snooper.

I flushed deeply and stared at my shoes.

I found my seat and squirmed, feeling Edward lower himself down to sit next to me, and pulled my knees up to my chest. My fingers wiggled in the dusty dirt, sliding through it until they came in contact with a stray shard of wood. I pushed my nails into it, making indentations in the water worn face.

No one spoke.

I cleared my throat and reached around the fire to drag the portable radio over. I messed with the dial and pushed some buttons. Suddenly, sound. Leona Lewis screeching about bleeding hearts.

Ugh. Ew. Change. Please.

I flicked more buttons, station surfacing.

And still.

No one was speaking.

Alice was smiling and glancing at me pointedly and Emmett was just full out grinning. Like a hungry wolf. And Rose was his female replica. Like. A lizard. Except pretty.

Fuck. They were making me nervous.

My stomach churned and I shrank away.

The static and espanol and occasional shitty music from the radio were the only things that punctuated the ever growing silent tension.

Gah.

Finally, Emmett broke it all. "So Bella. What were you guys doing back there that ah, took so long?"

He raised his eyebrow, waiting for an answer – or more accurately, my blushes and excuses and silences – and I just.

I just glared.

I didn't want this. I couldn't fucking _deal_ with this right now. I was still so confused about me and him and all our issues – my issues. The dirty laundry wasn't fucking ready to be aired yet. I needed to let it sit and mold for just a little while longer.

But Emmett didn't know any of this. He just kept that eyebrow up and everyone was still staring and I could feel my face starting to heat just like it fucking always did –

And somebody better say something soon. My lip trembled its way under my teeth and I could feel the blush spread and take over my face.

Implant.

Explode.

Invade.

I was blown up and found out.

And then, Edward sighed with disgust. His hand brushed briefly against mine, once, and he opened his mouth to speak. "We had our own little orgy in the bushes while you fuckers set up camp."

I froze up.

My eyes went saucer size.

I wanted to laugh but was too preoccupied with splitting my time looking frantically from my jeans to their faces.

My eyes locked on Jasper again, and I watched his lips quirk and his eyes understand. He let out a chuckle.

And everyone else –

Everyone else followed.

Jasper grabbed the radio from me and pulled out a CD from his back pocket, tsking disapprovingly at me. "Darlin, let me take care of the music."

"Uh . . . okay." I said lamely.

He smirked all charming and leaned back on a log. Alice scouted closer and slithered an arm around his waist, and Jazz leaned down to peck at her nose with his lips.

Rose chattered about her lipstick or something to Alice and Emmett leaned over to jab knuckles with Edward for . . . something.

I don't know. I was still an iceberg.

I don't know what about it had me so shocked. But, it's like, he had protected me. Protected me from any of those things they would have said that he knew I couldn't handle.

I ran a hand through my hair and tried to shake myself out of it.

And then I realized – it wasn't just me. It was _us_. He had saved us.

"Lazies and germs –"

"What are you, seven?" shot Edward.

If he kept talking I'd have a seizure, I swear.

Jasper flipped him the bird. "Can't you even remember my birthday man?"

Edward glared. "August twelfth asshole."

Jasper smiled smugly. "June twentieth. Now shut up cuz I'm gonna play some music now."

He hit a button on the radio.

Alice rolled her eyes as the song began and reached her hand around Jasper's head to play with his hair. "He has to play his music." She said, eyeing him as if she was his mama.

"If I even suggest Z 100 or – God forbid! – Light FM," she continued. "He goes all monkey. I mean really, what's so wrong with liking modern mainstream music? Is that really that horrible, to be into the trends, the as of this moment? Really you guys. Must I listen to music produced before I was born? I don't feel the need. And honestly, I think it's awfully pretentious, the way everybody promotes their so called uniqueness."

She scrunched up her nose. "Makes me want to be sick."

"You do realize you just said Jasper makes you sick. Right?" Rose said.

"Wait, no – that's not what I meant –"Then her face went all confused. "You – Damnitt, shut up Rose."

"Yeah, watch it Hale." Emmett said.

I rolled my eyes.

I tuned them out a little, wanting to listen to the song for a sec.

David Bowie. "Heroes".

I hummed in contentment. Good, good song.

"Bella?"

Edward, Edward speaking so soft I knew it was for my ears only.

I turned so that my whole body was facing him, not just my head, and met his gaze. His green was indiscernible. And even though I knew we didn't have to, it felt too personal, too much like a secret, so I whispered back: "Yeah?"

For a second, I thought he hadn't heard me. That my wispy reply was lost in the music and the gently blowing breeze.

The groves between his brows deepened. He was silent.

He looked at me, and I looked back, and his hair was black against the night.

I watched him figure out what he was going to say. His face intense and soft and lost all at the same time.

The lost part made me want to hug him. Badly.

Then: "After you left, I locked myself in my room for a week and listened to this song on repeat."

I squeezed my eyes closed for a just a second, so I could just see the insides of my eyelids, and then I opened them.

How sucky.

I wanted to ask him why. I wanted to ask him how it had been when I had left, but knew it wasn't the time. So instead I just talked.

"I threw fits when I first moved. A lot of them. I threw things and screamed. I punched my uncle in the nose." I chuckled a little. "They had me on medication for anxiety attacks. And I was always at the doctors. And they were always doing cat scans . . ."

Edward interrupted me with a finger over my lips. "Do you know how many instruments I actually play?"

I blinked. I shook my head no.

"Eleven. I taught myself all of them. After you left."

I couldn't stop myself from reaching a finger out to touch his wrist.

I swallowed and whispered "I wrote five books. All about a blind man."

I thought he looked like he was smiling.

"I guess we're both a little fucked." I said.

I hand him a cigarette and we turned, cuz we had friends to face.

There was loud. There were dirty jokes. And lots and lots of Music.

And I smiled. Giggled a little.

It was just so . . . it was fun I'd missed.

I leaned back into my log. Rose slipped off her shoes and asked me to trade. I shrugged and threw her my Docs. Her sandals were a half size too big and a shiny gold, and my toes looked tiny in them.

I stole glances at Edward every thirty seconds because I liked how he had defended me and helped us and that was a weird fucking conversation we'd just had, and because, well, he was beautiful.

He stole glances back sometimes and our eyes would meet. We didn't smile, but my blood still rushed tingly.

Emmett got up to poke the fire and I thought of the kiss and how his lips had felt against mine.

Rosalie produced a bottle of whiskey from her bag and I thought about how badly I'd hurt him these past few weeks.

I brought the bottle to my lips for a burning swallow, and thought about Edward and what he'd done to get me back, and how he'd only hurt us more. His mistakes.

It was warm and we were still loud, louder still, tipsy and silly, and when I got up, nobody noticed.

I walked toward the lake and thought about my own mistakes.

I thought about our mistakes.

I lit another cigarette of my own.

I thought about right before that first kiss tonight.

And I thought, and I realized as I slipped off Rosalie's shoes and left them by a gnarled root, that it was later now.

I stepped across the hard pebbles of the bank and let one of my toes touch the water.

At the same time I felt the shock of the icy cold on my lone little appendage, I heard feet meeting gravel.

"That's a really stupid thing to do, you know."

"Yeah."

"You're still gonna do it aren't you."

I sighed. "No."

I think that surprised him.

It was quiet.

"I don't know Edward. I think, I just gotta stop acting like such a fuck up."

A rough exhale. More crunching pebbles as he stepped closer. "You're not a fucking fuck up."

"My point," I mumbled, but decided to let it drop. This wasn't going anywhere anyway.

Edward came closer, till he stood beside me. I glanced at his feet – studied his shoes. Black and white converse. Old. He had big feet.

"Can I ask you a question?"I ask.

"Hmm."

"What size shoe are you?"

Damn. Fuck. I'm so chickenshit.

"13."

"Wow. I'm still a 7."

"That's cuz you're short." He placed a hand on the top of my head and patted. I scowled. Secretly reveled in the contact.

"I am – I am not – I'm not that _short_ –"

"Shhh . . . just shut up." And I did cause his pat had now turned into a stroke. His fingers moved through my hair, like little wiggly invaders parading over my scalp.

"We should talk now." I said.

"Wait." And he leaned down and in, and his face was suddenly in my own. He stopped, hovering between the moment when he was away and when he would be close, and he looked at me hard. Like he wanted to say something but didn't know what it was or how to say it. I licked my lips. And then he kissed me, weird and quick. Dry and in the dark. His breath fanned over my face and it smelled sour and sweet, and I wondered how much he had had to drink.

I pulled back, grabbed his face and looked at him. His eyes stayed glued to mine and I shuddered.

"You did some stupid things."

He didn't get angry. He made no expression. Just: "When."

"Trying to . . ." I struggled for the right words. "Trying to . . . when you were trying to get me back. God. Sorry. That sounds so cheesy and not fucking right for the situation –"

I cut myself off.

Silence and some cricket chirps. "Thank you."I said.

The moon light hit the gently cresting water, glinting deep grayish green, like dirty seaweed. Stars dotted a black expanse, tiny shimmers, glued onto a canvas.

I noted all this cuz I would never stop being nervous around him.

"For everything Edward. For showing up. For telling me all those things I didn't want to hear. For chasing even when I ran. I know I act really stupid all the time. Really insecure and … scared. But I want you to know how, god, grateful I am. I never could have – I wouldn't be me, because, it was more than the memories that brought me back.

"And you tried – _try_, so hard."

I stopped and I took his hand, needing something to clutch. I found his eyes and opened my mouth to speak the rest of it. "You push yourself so I can come back. And that hurt you. It hurts you when I run,"

I swallowed. "And it hurts you when I – fuck, freak out over silly things. I want you to know that you don't have to push anymore. I'm meeting you halfway now. I just, I just want you to know that."

He breathed in through his nose, and the air was still around us.

He exhaled, and his eyes seemed uncertain.

"I'm not going anywhere."I whispered.

And the green, finally, cemented.

Don't be scared. Don't push. Don't make those mistakes.

Please.

Please, please, please.

He hugged me, and it was rib crushing.

"The tapestry," he mumbled.

"I was afraid I'd find something bad in the good. I was afraid it would all come tumbling down around me. I'm sorry."

"Me too."

"For what?"

"For whatever shit I might have caused you. Anything. All of it. I'm sorry."

I sighed soft into his shirt. My nose nuzzled near his heart, and I could hear its steady thump. His hands grasped my elbows, warm on my cold flesh.

"You know," he began. "That wasn't really a talk."

I laughed real soft. "Yeah."

"So may I initiate a real one?"

I glanced to the side, at our tipsy friends. They were laughing and facing away from his. Rose even had her hand on Emmet's knee. I smiled a little to myself.

"Sure."

I stepped back and sat down in the dirt.

"You don't have to sit Bella."He said, still standing. He looked like a sky scraper like this.

"You can't have a good, real talk without sitting."I retorted. I patted the gravel next to me.

He seemed to roll his eyes – couldn't be sure in this light – but he complied.

He grimaced as his ass met the ground. "Fuck, ow. This shit hurts."Edward whined.

"Don't be such a baby. You're the one who wanted to have the talk."

"Not in the dirt."

"Whatever."

I played with Rosalie's sandals, fingering the little glimmery straps as I waited for him to talk.

When nothing came, I looked up. He stared.

I nibbled on my lip and . . . waited some more.

"Edward?"

"Hmm."

"Aren't you going to . . . what do you wanna talk about?"

He sighed and raked his hands through his hair. "This is really hard to say."

Oh.

God.

He couldn't be . . .

"I don't know how to – so I'm just gonna – but I can't. Fuck."

Indecision.

What was he trying to say? I had to know.

I think I already knew.

"I'm really confused. I told you that already. I just, I can't take this – oh, Bell. It's alright."

He must have read the whatever emotions on my face, cause he pulled me close. I exhaled shakily into his chest.

"Go on."I mumbled.

"I don't know how to."

"I can say it if you can't?"

He was quiet. And I just, I had to bring it up. The elephant in the room since the very beginning. Or was it the kiss? I dunno.

Everything twisted around and got big.

The breath stung my lungs I sucked so deep. My heart thudded heavily against my ribcage. I looked up at the sky, at the blue black, away from green and browns. My throat felt dry but I pushed the words out anyway.

Be fucking brave. For once Bella.

"We're not just friends."

I gulped and ripped myself away from him. I could feel my head and heart and everything pounding as he nodded and as I scooted farther away.

"And it's been like this –"

"Since forever." He finished. "Or, well, not forever. But it definitely wasn't friendship that last year before you left. And. I really. I really tried for us not to be complicated when you came back. It's always been so difficult, and all I wanted was for you to remember and be okay again. But I've never been very good at controlling anything involving us."

I breathed breaths and he closed his eyes. I noted his jeans and his T-shirt. It was chilly and I shivered.

"Hey."

I looked at him. He took his sweatshirt off and draped it over my shoulders.

"Thanks."I said without moving my lips.

Then I really looked at him. And his eyes were tight and pained. "Look," he began. "If you're not – if you can't do it, I want you to know it's alright. It's okay. We don't have to be –"

"No."

A piece of his hair fell across in front of his eyes, and before he could push it away, I reached over and did it for him. My eyes locked with his again, and I remained where I was, hovering on my knees over him.

"No." I repeated. "Fuck .. . fuck not being … ready. I'm sick of being so god damn scared of everything. Of being so apprehensive. You make me nervous Edward, but you definitely don't scare me. I-"

I paused and searched his eyes.

They flickered and there was something _more_ there.

"I want this. You. I want to talk to you. I want to drive in your car and sit with you at lunch. I want to kiss you. I want all that and I want more. Okay?"

Edward's hand slithered up to grip my waist. "Okay," He squeezed and his eyes burned. "I can do that."

"And I want to make you breakfast sometime. And I want to hear you play something on your piano. And I want you to tell me why you play all those instruments and I want to have a pair of shoes in your closet."

"That too."

"And," I swallowed. He was so beautiful, so close. So him."And I want you to make me laugh. I want you to let me put the New Radicals on your iPod. I want you to be my . . . can you . . . are you my boyfriend?" I whispered this to him, my forehead against his.

Here he smiled. "Is that what you wanna call it?"

I nodded and hid away in the side of his neck.

"Just," I began, my words muffled by his skin. "Please don't hurt me."'

He sighed sharply. "Oh Bell. Baby." His arms went tight around me. "No. I won't ever. I promise."

"Pinky swear?"

"Shut up. You're too silly and scared for your own good."

"But I'm happy. I'm really happy right now."

"That's good."

"Are you happy?"

"Of course not. I'm absolutely miserable."

"You're horrible."

"You're beautiful."

Heat. Heat all over my face. "No I'm not."

"Yes you fucking are."

"No, I'm really fucking not. Just face it boyfriend," And I pulled away with a smile the size of the world. "You have an ugly girlfriend."

* * *

yes. jasper said darlin. i like me some stereotypical southern. and yes. gf/bf. i did it.

NOW GO VOTE. SHO. VOTE.

and review. plz?


	21. Chapter 20

i'm sad. really, really, really sad. epic sad. cuz summer is over. no more late, hot nights. no more sleepovers and shorts and tanning outside with my book. no more drinking stolen wine and washing off the smell of nicotine from our hands. this is sucky. and yes. i'm a bad little girl. don't tell mommy. hah

**don't own. and neither does the bitch who ripped off Boycotts and Barflies and published it as a fucking book. it's on Amazon. Shoes Are Better Than Sex. c'mon my army of like, 3 reviewers. let's flame and sue and humiliate the assfuck.**

* * *

The car hummed. Dark forest passed swiftly outside, black in the night. I stifled a yawn and lay my head sleepily on the cold glass of the backseat window. The comforting weight of Edward's arm draped over my shoulders and I sighed, heavy eyelids and lifted spirits. His boozy breath fanned over my neck and I licked my lips.

Rose snored in the passenger's seat and Emmett snickered and rested the hand he wasn't using to drive on her shoulder.

"Hey," I murmured sharply.

He met my eyes in the rearview mirror. "Wha you want Belly Welly Bear?" His lips pulled up into a sloppy smirk that made me wonder if he should really be driving.

Emmet's eyes crinkled, and boy.

Eh. Fuck it.

I narrowed my eyes. "Watch your hand."

He snickered again. "Will do."

I watched him squeeze Rose's shoulder and his eyes refocus on the road before I smiled and returned to my own business. You could never be too careful with Emmett.

Though, admittedly, most of my suspicions were only in jest. We all knew Emmett would never lay an unwanted finger on Rosalie Hale (especially drunk), not for the life of him. Or his parents. Or his Jeep. Or just, fucking anything. His eyes flickered to her, and they grew mushy with emotion. Rose was precious to him, however irritating and naggy.

Alice shuffled her cards, and my attention reverted back to our game. Her bottom lip protruded in thought, her mouth slightly gaping. I tapped my foot impatiently, and she shot me a glare.

"Shhhh . . . . I'm . . . considering."

Right.

The car was moving and I had to play over Edward's lap, so the game wasn't really working. Plus, Alice wasn't far away from passing out and joining Jasper on the floor of the car.

I glanced at him and almost laughed. His mouth was open and he on a feather boa. Where he'd gotten it . . . I had no idea.

"Three eights." Alice said finally, and slapped down the cards.

The edge of her lip quirked.

Pshh. I shook my head. So fucking obvious.

"B.S."

"Damnitt!" she slurred, and reluctantly took the deck.

I giggled. "Shouldn't play when you're tipsy Al." Though she was really much more then that.

She pouted. "Shud up. Or I'll rat out your night of underage, illegal, late night activities to Chief Swan."

"Sure you will."

Edward blew suddenly on my neck, and I jumped. "Shh. She will." His whispered words vibrated against my skin, and I shivered. "Watch out Bell."

He placed his hand on my knee and I didn't make any move to remove it.

* * *

Em dropped himself off first.

"Okay folks. This here be my crib. Sayonara." He said, and jumped from the Volvo. "C'mon Eddie. Haul your ass outta the back and yer hand out from under Bella's shirt – yeah, that's right Swan, I see you back there." He grinned.

Me = tomato.

Caught stealing second.

Well. I can admit making out here was kinda retarded. Stupid. Um.

I blame hormones and my age.

Edward rolled his eyes. "Why don't you go jack off to Rosalie's class picture Emmett?"

Rose perked up. "Huh?"

I reached around the headrest and patted her golden hair soothingly. "Shh honey. It's nothing. Go back to sleep."

"Don't let him duck dick . . ."she mumbled.

I pressed my other hand to my mouth to keep from laughing. "Sure hun. No ducking dicks."

She twisted and fell back to sleep with a snore.

Em snorted and did a 180. "See ya fuckas!"

"No ducking!" I yelled after him, and then combusted into giggles.

We watched his shoulders tense and the front door slam. Edward chuckled with me once, and then detangled himself from my needy, greedy hands. He climbed over the center console and into the driver's seat, putting the car in drive and stepping on the gas.

Jazz and Rose went second.

I bit my lip looking at Mr. Sombrero. Alice shook her head.

"Can't Jazz just sleep over?" she whined.

"No," Edward said firmly.

"But you have Bella!" She pouted. (I was sleeping over?)

"Is Bella passed out?"

Alice looked at me. Her little half lidded eyes scanned me from head to toe.

Then she turned back to her brother. "No!" Her mouth opened in a little "o" of surprise at her own words.

Edward smiled and grabbed Jazz around his shoulders. "Get his feet will you Bella?"

"Um . . .kay?"

I wrapped my hands tightly around his dirty Timberlands and together we hauled his drunk ass out of the car and onto the front steps.

Rose came staggering out next. She slung an arm around Jasper's waist to support him. One of his eyes opened blearily.

"Hello." He said. Eerily fucking sober.

Even . . . solemn.

What the fuck.

Rose saw my expression. "Ignore him," she muttered sleepily. "He likes to mindfuck people when he's drunk."

I raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "My brother's a sleazy, pretentious freak. Now shoo. I need fucking sleep you shits."

"Yessir."

Jasper tugged on his boa and saluted us.

I reached out for Edward and threaded my fingers through his. We walked back to the car hand in hand.

We slid in.

Alice sighed. "Guys?"

"Hmm."

"Let's go home."

"Yeah."

Edward drove us back and I dozed.

The forest and the streetlights made a moving haze that lit up the insides of my eyelids. I was dimly aware of him up front, the generic classic rock (Springteen?) playing softly throughout the car, Alice's shuffling as she lay her head on my lap.

But mostly, I was just dreaming.

* * *

"Shhh. Guys. Shut the fuck up! We were supposed to be back, like, four fucking hours ago – at eleven. And it's – fuck, what time is it? Three?!"

"Shh," I hissed.

Alice giggled and slithered up close to me. I laughed back.

"Yeah dear brother," she sang blearily. "SHHHHH."

She collapsed into me, giggling madly, and I smothered my own chuckles in her hair.

Edward – SHHH! – late fucking night.

!!!!

Maybe we _were_ just a little delirious.

"Bella, c'mon." He reached out, and his hand was suddenly around my wrist, yanking me away from his sister and toward him. I didn't fight hard. "My father's working the night shift and my mother is a morning person – so we should be alright. But so help me God, if you two don't shut up, we are gonna get caught and I am not covering for you,"

"But you're drunk too."

He glared at me. His eyes were green and clear and . . . sober.

What?

"Well, I'm not, so, it's just Alice –"Edward rolled his eyes.

"What?" I bristled, annoyed at his condescending eye motions.

"Bella, you're so fucking tired, you'd pass for intoxicated."

I considered this whilst staring at him.

I _had_been up since the crack of dawn. And that seemed like forever ago – him picking me up. Lunch. Shopping. The retarded fucking tapestry and, the kiss. Mmmm.

Kiss.

Soft lips and warm breath . . .

"Bella?" He shook me and I startled.

"Wha?"

He only smirked.

Behind us, there was a dull smack.

We whipped around.

Alice lay sprawled on her back across the porch steps. Her head sagged backwards so she was looking at as upside down. "Help?"

Puny pitiful pixie.

Edward released me and walked to Alice. Gently, he encased her in his arms and picked her up. He led her across the threshold, me opening the door and wondering to Jesus why they he had so many fucking jangly keys.

We tiptoed in and I silently shut the door behind us.

Edward turned to me, put his finger to his lips. I rolled my eyes and nodded. I lead us up the staircase, my foot landing soundly on the first step.

CREAK.

Oh. Shit.

I cringed and met Edward's wide eyes. "Keep to the left," he mouthed. I gulped and shifted my feet.

We resumed out careful climbing.

And then Alice got a hold of my shirt and tugged down forcefully. I yelped into the quiet and Edward clapped a hand over my mouth.

And then Alice opened her trap and spoke, much to fucking loud: "But I'm _hungry_!"

Fucking hell.

Now I'm with you Ed.

Just _shut_ _up_.

Edward removed his hand and hissed something low and sharp into her ear. She eyed him, agitated and drunk, and then waved a hand in front of his face.

"Shhhhh. Must be quiet brother."

We somehow made it to Alice's room. Edward pulled the door open and stumbled in, setting her down on the floor.

I leaned against the door jam and watched him bend over. (nice ass, I noted.) Then Alice squirm.

Hmmm.

She must be tired. That floor must feel horrible. A bed would be so much softer.

I stepped forward and tugged on his sleeve, trying to catch his eye, a complaint on the tip of my tongue, when he leaned down. His whisper made me shiver. "She's fine Bell."

I looked. She was out cold. I watched her reach a hand out in search until she made contact with some shirt or teddy or something, snuggling it close to her chest as she deflated into the carpet.

Still.

It wasn't right. I turned to say as much, but then I saw his eyes glint and his face go silly, and I knew he was gonna be an asshat about something or the other –

Edward grabbed me around the waist, hoisted me into his arms.

I gasped loudly; he shushed me.

He carried me in his arms cross the hall, opened his door and shut it behind him, and strode across his room. He dumped me onto his unmade bed, and I forgot for a second that his mom was asleep and just down the hall and that we smelled like whiskey and fire wood and lake, and giggled, stretched a yearning hand up to his face, gripped it and pulled him in and down and to my lips.

I sighed and he sighed and I pulled him on top cause I could and I knew he would let me.

And then it was like that for a while, kisses and dim light.

* * *

"Edward,"

His name left my parted lips like a breath, so quiet and fluid, I was surprised he heard it.

"Bella."

I yawned big and loud, and I think it was point enough. He pulled me up by my wrists and helped me change. A worn t-shirt found its way between my fingers, and he turned politely as I discarded the tank and pulled the one that smelled like . . . like him over my head.

I pulled off my jeans and he helped me unbuckle Rose's sandals, which I had never given back. He knelt at me feet, picking at the little locks, and I studied him.

"Damn, these fucking things will not come off," he grumbled. "What did you do? Weld the buckles together. Christ."

"Edward . . ."

One sandal finally unbuckled, and he pulled it from my foot. "Jesus Bell. Your feet are black."

"Edward."

He held up my foot for inspection, gripping it around the ankle and barely grazing my toes with the tip of his pointer finger. His forehead scrunched. "You're not gonna sleep in my bed with fucking dirty feet girl. You'll have to wash them," he mused.

"Edward."

He traced a finger along my heel and I jumped. "That tickles. Edward."

"What."

He finally looked at me.

I looked back.

He looked a tad annoyed. Just a little.

But I didn't say anything cuz really all I'd wanted in the first place was for him to look at me. There wasn't a whole lot better than his and my eyes locked. And that sounds cheesy and goony, but when you have an Edward and you're somehow his girlfriend, simple things just make you that way.

"Hi."

He sighed. Unbuckled my other shoe.

"We'll just wash your feet in the morning. But you gotta remind me ok?"

I nodded. "Give me a pen."

"What? Why?"

"So I can write that down. To remind myself to remind you."

"You're crazy."

"I think you like it."

He stood up, his tall form hovering over me, staring at my smiling, cheeky face. A slow grin formed. "I think I like it too."

I sighed and leaned back on the bed. "No, you're supposed to _disagree_ Edward –"

"You no, no, no," And he climbed up on the bed with me. He grabbed me around the waist and I shrieked lightly, the scream cut off halfway as my mouth bumped and landed on his neck. I laughed into his skin. His fingers teased the ends of my hair, and mine touched and circled his chest. "Bella, I think I like you very, very much."

I stilled.

Serious. So serious.

I looked at him and I could feel my brow furrow. My teeth sunk into my lip. "You wanna know something?"I whispered.

He didn't move.

"I say whatever I feel around you. I just blurt it out. I don't think or edit, and maybe I do worry about what you'll think, but I say it just the same. And I don't, can't do that around any other person."

We were locked and quiet.

I watched the expressions on his face. Pouting bottom lip and quivering skin. Confusion or understanding or just blank. I didn't know.

His chest rose deeply under my fingers, and a long, heavy sigh emptied from his mouth.

"What does that mean Bella?" He asked, his eyes so intense, so hot, burning in a way that honestly frightened me. I was scared to get too close, because I swear the flames would hurt and burn.

"It means I like you very, very much too."

Burning, burning, scorching clover eyes.

"I adore you."

"I – me too."

"I want you."

"Edward," and my hands fisted in his shirt. "Whatever you bring to the table, whatever you got, I can meet."

"You better hope girl."

"I don't need to hope anymore."

* * *

**i should remind you that i am starting school on the 9th. that's in less then a day. pity me. love me. A HUNDRED AND SOMETHING OR ANOTHER ALERTS! THAT'S RIGHT. I'M CALLING YOU ALL OUT ON IT. BWAHAH. **

i'm retarted. sorry.


	22. Chapter 21

i suck.

no, actually - i fucking rule. i know it's been a bajillion years since i updated this, but i've been busy. i've been finding myself. LIKE OMG YES I'M SERIOUS. sue me suckers. i'm so happy right now i could scream. in fact, i just did. scream. omg.

don't own

* * *

Edward and I sat side by side on the rim of his tube, our feet pruning in the soapy bath water. He hummed something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like U2, and I poked the side of his foot with my toe.

He cocked his head toward me. "Yes, my lady?"

"Shush. Stop humming. I'm trying to listen to the bubbles pop."

"Like rice crispies, eh?"

"The bubbles are better."

He shifted and tugged on my hand, making me meet his eyes. "Why are they better Bella?"

"Um." He looked like he actually cared. So I answered as seriously as I could. "Because they aren't advertised to pop. Because you have to listen closer. Because they're soap."

"Hmmm."

"And because Rice Crispies are cereal. Not bubbles. And rice crispies can't _really_ pop. Though they can crackle. And snap. I'll give them that."

He snorted. "Now I'm hungry."

I chuckled and leaned in, poking a particularly large bubble and watching it disappear.

"Bella."

"Hmm?"

Edward's eyes seemed to have a purpose now. "Aren't you hungry too?"

"Not really. I'm fine."

"You haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon. You've got to be."

"Well. I'm not. I'm not a growing boy like you. God, you must have grown a foot since we were thirteen –"

He was glaring now. "You need to eat."

I sighed, but his hand was already clasped around my wrist, tugging me up and along. The protests died on my lips. He was too strong to fight, and besides, I realized. It was stupid to object. I _was_ hungry and he was offering, and eating would make us all happy.

I let him lead us down to the kitchen, our drippy feet leaving footprints on the wooden floors.

He opened the fridge and I watched him unload things and sniff the milk.

We toasted frozen waffles and I bitched about the Fako Mapo ("Aunt Jemima is, like, the mother of all breakfast." "She's also the mother of all obesity, rich boy.")

He got up from the kitchen table to pour the orange juice.

I watched him leave the table, walk around the counter, his feet padding softly on the floor boards.

Then I followed and kissed him against the refrigerator, grabbing his collar and closing my eyes.

He sighed into my mouth, and then I felt his palm at my hip, splaying over the loose fabric of his boxers. The tips of his warm fingers rubbed against the sliver of exposed skin where my shirt had ridden up, and I shivered.

This sleepover, I noted, was entirely different from the last. Before, it had seemed like everything was up in the air, like we were grasping at floating pieces and trying to glue them back together again. It was chaotic and confusing and I was so, so scared.

Now. Now it was calmer. I was calmer. I had him here, in my arms, and I had my friends, and my memory, and he tasted like syrup and Edward. Things were settling, some heavy sort of happy growing in my chest, replacing the heartache.

So I leaned closer, let my hand trail down to cover his. I moved it so it settled on my ass and I heard him choke. I giggled against his lips, pushed nearer, nearer, our bodies flush with clothed contact. I took a shuddering breath as he released my lips and trailed his own down my neck, rough and incredibly eager.

Behind us, I heard a throat clear.

We whipped around, and when I saw her, I nearly toppled over. I caught myself on the counter. And stared.

Esme Cullen was still beautiful.

The kind laugh lines and the faint crinkles around her eyes, the splattering of gray in her caramel hair. She wore an old satin robe and her feet were stuffed in granny slippers. She was breakfast and tulips and warm perfume and the mother I never had.

I thought of telling her this then, but, at the look on her face, decided against it. Instead, I bit into my waffle.

"Mom," Edward said. And the back of his hand brushed against my back. "Bella slept over."

I chocked on my Eggo.

Edward glared at me and I glared back. "Be a little more conspicuous why don't you." I hissed.

"Fuck off and eat your waffle girl."

"This isn't a waffle. It's a piece of doughy imitation crap."

"But you're still eating it."

"I'm hungry. That doesn't mean it isn't shit."

"Now look who has high expectations."

"Not high caviar boy. But I do expect flipping decent waffles."

He rolled his eyes. "Shut up. We have an audience."

Mommy Cullen had been watching our exchange with raised eyebrows.

I blushed and blanched and shrunk at the same time. She'd heard us potty mouth each other.

Well.

It's just how we rolled.

But. We should have known better . . . ?

I guess we both needed to learn some self control.

I swallowed, suddenly aware that this family had once been my own, and barging back in like this was, well . . . rude.

Esme clutched her robe together and straightened, leveling us both a firm look. "Edward, I expect you home immediately after school today. I'll be wanting to . . . have a word with you. And, as for Bella –" I kinda gasped as she said my name. It sounded so surreal. "- Why doesn't she join us for dinner tonight?" Esme smiled and met my eyes.

Oh. Shit.

I think – I _swear_, she just winked.

I blushed.

"Um. Yeah. Okay." I mumbled.

"Since you two are obviously very close, I don't think it will be a problem . . ." Esme began.

"Mom. Bella can't. She needs to check with her father and we have home work –"

"Oh hush darling." She prattled. She marched into the kitchen, commanding yet graceful. I could now see where Alice got it from. "You can have Bella and your friends over for homework if you must. Why doesn't Bella just invite the Chief along? It's been a long time since we've had a nice dinner with him, hasn't it?"

Edward was silent.

Esme pulled out some eggs and milk and then a container of flour. "Scoot kids. I'll make a proper breakfast. And wake your sister."

Edward sighed and grabbed my hand once her back was turned. He led me out the kitchen and up the stairs before I just had to stop.

"Edward."

"What?"

"Edward."

"What? Bella, I'm listening –"

"Edward!" I tugged him down to my level. His eyes widened and he stared at me.

"I think your mom might have just . . . just _winked_ at me."

He blinked.

"She knows." I whispered.

His brow crinkled the ittiest bit. "About what exactly?"

"Us. Me." And even though I was horrified at the thought of his mother becoming involved in … this – of Charlie and the dinner and Carlisle – I still felt a little swell of warmth rise up in my chest. _Us_.

Edward stared.

"I know."

"What?!"

"Bella, fuck. Lower your fucking voice."

"Sorry."

"No," he sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead. "Don't apologize for - Christ. Of course she knows. She and your mom were close. Made us diaper buddies, remember? She naturally wanted all the details when shit hit the fan."

"Oh," I said, as if I understood.

"Bella," his hands tiptoed up to my shoulders, where he held them tight, connecting me to him like a telephone line. The sparks of touch hit my nerves and made me dizzy.

"So. So lemme get this straight. You told your mother about . . . _everything_?!"

He had the audacity to look outraged as I glared. "What the fuck was I supposed to do? I was thirteen and devastated. My best friend in the entire world had just vanished off the surface of the earth, both mentally and physically. So I sobbed pathetically into my mommy's arms like the piece of shit I was."

"But. But, but, how could you –"

"Oh my God. Bell, do you feel betrayed now?"

I nodded.

"It wasn't like she wasn't going to hear about it Bella."

"But you told her all about . . . did you tell her about the . . . the . . ." fuck me, I couldn't say it.

He was silent.

I stared at his feet, hurt by his coldness.

Finally, I felt his finger tap once at my cheek. I looked at him.

He stared, met my eyes. "No. Never. That was always, no matter how much I tried to intervene, your silent burden."

I shuddered, a rush of feeling nearly taking me under. I didn't know if it was relief or regret or . . . just whatever it was, it was strong. I nodded.

He took a deep breath through his nose and led me down the hall back to his room. I watched him get dressed, biting my lips as he buttoned his jeans and shed his shirt for a fresh one. I stared at his bare torso.

He wasn't muscular. He didn't have bulging biceps or stellar abs or pecs or anything. He was long, lean. Little rivers of muscle traveled along his stomach, his back, moving as he stretched. His movements were strong, his fingers firm as they pulled a sock onto his food, ran through his gnarly hair. He didn't have to be look like a body builder for you to know he leaked testosterone.

He caught me staring.

I didn't look away.

I wanted to eat him.

"Bella," he smirked.

"Yeah?"

"Are you checking me out?"

"Mmm. Possibly."

He stalked toward me. I held out a hand. "No, no, no. I can't. I gotta go get pretty with Alice for you."

"Fuck that. You're pretty now."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, Jesus."

"I think you're lying."

"And I think you're whining."

"Well, now that's just insulting."

I left the room, grinning.

I woke Alice, who was still lying there on the floor. She groaned and moaned and I got her a glass of water and some Advil. Then I kicked her lightly and told her I needed her help. She told me to fuck off.

I pouted. "Please?"

"NO! For once, just . . . dress yourself. I'm tired."

I sighed, entirely put out. The one day I was willing to play Barbie and she bails. Well. Fuck that. I went to her closet and found a skirt and tights and boots. Then I tralalaed back to Edward's room. I walked in. He eyed me up and down.

"I need a shirt."

He raised a brow. He didn't move from his place on the bed.

I sighed again and walked to his dresser. Then I pulled off the shirt I was wearing, giving him a view of my nearly bare back.

He coughed.

I glanced at him over my shoulder, and his eyes were glued to my form. I smiled at him and snapped my bra strap. Edward looked shocked.

Silly boy.

I pulled on a Bob Dylan t-shirt I remember him wearing back in the sixth grade. It fit me well enough now. Still a couple sizes too big, but no matter. I tucked it into the skirt and then did a little spin.

"Whaddaya think?"I asked him.

"I think you're nuts. And hot. Yesterday I got to see your tits and now I can see your legs. I love life."

"You are _so_ crude."

"You like it."

"A little. Dirty caveman talk always did turn me on."

"Bella, shit, stop. Don't say that or I'll . . . shit."

"Or you'll what?"

"I . . . dunno?" He dragged his hands over his face and I laughed at him.

I grabbed our schoolbags and tugged him down the hall to retrieve Alice. She still looked gorgeous, even with a hangover. I told her this and she smacked me lightly in disbelief.

Esme fed us. I said thank you way too many times and blushed when she insisted that she'd get my orange juice. I was relieved when we finally got out of there.

We drove with the windows down, even though it was fucking freezing. I lit a smoke and Alice and Edward both got pissy. I rolled my eyes and offered them a stick each. Edward accepted like the hypocrite he was and Alice just got angrier.

We met Rose in the parking lot. She looked tired. Like, really, really tired. "Did you sleep at all?" I asked her.

Her lips pursed. "No. My fuckhead brother kept me up all night doing fucking stupid things. He started fucking drumming and singing at the top of his fucking lungs, and I was like, fuck you, you don't even know how to drum. He told me he was practicing to be the next fucking Jonas Brother. Fuck." She sighed.

I kissed her check. Offered her a smoke.

Nicotine would get us all through the day, it seemed.

I looked up, following the smoke with my eyes, listening as the parking lot filled up. Edward's arms wrapped around my waist and I leaned into him, taking another drag. There was a tear in the cloud cover, and sunlight came pouring in, sudden, like a water fall of radiance. It showered us in yellow, turned my hair red and his copper, the color of new pennies. He looked at me, green eyes brilliant, sharp like summer, searing and cutting into my soul.

* * *

did you understand that? cuz i sure as hell didn't. fuck.

i love you all. to death. kiss kiss. (and i'm sorry)

go check my profile for shiz, kk?


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